I heard the customary scratch on the front door tonight and when I went to let him in, Owen hustled off the front porch and out into the yard. At first, I thought he was after a bone, because sometimes he hopes I’ll let him bring them inside.

Whatever he had, wasn’t a bone. I then hoped someone had thrown a dog toy over the back gate, but no, what he had, was the back end of a bunny.

When we’re up at the cabin, Owen and Raymond are obsessed in that way that only bird dogs can be,  about chasing bunnies. The door opens and they rocket out, yipping a little, filled with hope that this time, this time they’re going to catch the Garbage Can Bunny (who lives under the pallet upon which the garbage cans rest). Or perhaps the Motel Bunny who lives behind the 2-unit motel cabin. Or maybe, just maybe, the Bunny Under the Big Bush by the ditch.

They have never caught any of these bunnies. These bunnies live in the wild. These bunnies keep their eyes out.

In town, the alley behind my house has a pretty healthy bunny population. I figure that augers well for the chickens, because any predator that will eat a chicken, will also eat a bunny. Somehow, the dogs must have surprised a Town Bunny out by the shed, because after Owen brought me his prize (he was quite proud of himself) I made him take me in back to find the rest of the bunny (thank goodness for gardening gloves when disposing of such messes). “Hunt it up,” I told him, and off he went.

Alas, it seems the front half of the bunny has disappeared. So tonight, we sleep with the door to the mud room open, so two dogs, who have been known to have rather delicate constitutions, can exit should the front half of the bunny re-assert itself.

While I’m sad for the bunny, who was, from what I can tell, a sweet furry little grey cottontail, I’m sort of thrilled for my obsessed dogs. A bunny! They got one!

The Mighty Hunters.

It’s not quite the lions and the lambs, but pretty close — we’ve had a big breakthrough in the domestic realm this week. The dogs seem to have developed the ability to mingle with the chickens without killing them. It’s a fragile truce, and one that requires close supervision, since the poor bird dogs are fighting generations of breeding that tells them to get the bird, but so far, we’ve had several episodes of domestic harmony. Which makes gardening much easier, as the compost heap is inside the chicken run.

At any rate, I’m very proud of my boys. Such self-restraint. It was so exhausting that Raymond (the larger dog) had to come inside and take a nap afterwards.

robo-dog

I’ve written before about Owen’s robo-leg, but it’s worked so well that I had to send it back to the good folks at K-9 Orthotics in Nova Scotia last week for a tune up.

It was really sad — the vet and I had to put him in a brace, like the ones he spent much of last summer in, except that because we didn’t have the fiberglass “cast” as a base, we wound up using a generic hard plastic brace for support. Since he really doesn’t have a functioning achilles tendon in that leg, it needs support, in large part so he doesn’t blow the other hind leg.

He did pretty well for the first couple of days, but Saturday night we were up at Chuck’s cabin and it was clearly upsetting him. He’s such a good patient in general, that when he starts biting at something like a brace, it means something’s wrong. So I cut it off, and yeah, the hard plastic thing had rubbed a bad sore spot on the inside of his “elbow.” Poor guy.

So I let him go bare-legged until Monday afternoon when the miracle of FedEx brought us a new, improved, fixed-up “leg.” As I carried the package into the house I said, “hey Owie, want me to put your leg on?” He’s so funny, he’ll roll right over and hold up his wobbly leg so I can put his “leg” on:

robo-leg

It does look like a bondage device, but the really exciting thing is that after almost a year of surgeries and braces and bandages and all the rest, Owen’s been in this thing since December. The only reason I had to send it back to Canada is because it’s been so successful that he wore out the velcro straps. This thing has been a lifesaver. Owie can run again, and chase bunnies, and go through the irrigation ditch at Chuck’s cabin. He’s gotten his strength back in his other legs, and I don’t spend all day cringing and hoping he’s not going to hurt himself even more. It does sometimes rub him a little raw, especially behind his hock, but for the most part, it’s been a raging success. Such a success that five days without it was a real problem. If I had the money, I’d buy a spare …

So, if you have an animal with mobility issues, I’d advise you to go off and check out the K-9 Orthotics website (look for the picture of the Llama with the aritficial leg — it’s wild!). They’re really nice, work very fast, and are more than happy to make repairs if needed. Can’t say enough good things about them …. thanks guys!