Decisions decisions!

This is Roxy. (Ok, so I've Photoshopped it a bit for fun)



I'm the proud owner of two pure bred Fox Terriers, one lazy older bitch, Narla, and a much younger miniature female who has the killer instinct. I point out that I never encouraged her to hunt, in a country like Australia where even tiny spiders can kill you dead it’s not something you encourage your animals to do.
Roxy, the younger dog finds and kills more mice than most cats could manage, in fact the only thing she likes more than hunting is eating; this dog is very food oriented.
Yesterday while I was busy in the kitchen and the dogs were lying on their bed watching* me.
*code for hoping I’d drop something edible so they could be onto it like a lion on a staggering Wildebeest.

I saw nothing, I heard nothing, but when the small dog flew out of her bed and launched herself at the open Lounge room door I knew there had to be a mouse in the house. By the time I got there all I saw was her back legs hanging out from under my Jason Recliner, a scramble of claws and she was gone… under the chair.
I got to the chair and lifted the back to let her out but I knew from the sudden quiet that her job was already done.
She bounced out with her tail beating wildly, a dog biscuit in her mouth.
The mouse must have taken it from the dog bowl and scampered into the lounge to eat it… but was seen!
She’d chased the mouse and recovered her treat, but clearly the biscuit was much more important to her…and wasn’t she proud of her achievement, parading around for a few minutes before eating her catch.


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These are not my two but show perfectly what Foxies are about.





PS: don't let your kids name your animals...


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Where Was I........

About this you should know two things…
My youngest daughter (D3) picks my dogs…and names them.
To this end I have two English Fox Terriers named Narla (Lion King) and Roxy (Sports wear).
Narla’s a little over middle age with failing eyesight and a ball fixation, she will bring you a ball even where they don’t exist.
It doesn’t matter where I choose to walk her, she will come back at some stage with a ball. I have close to one hundred balls in my house, car, in the garden and even in the bushes and trees in the yard. It’s not all bad news though, after she strips the fur off them and eventually bites them into pieces just big enough to choke the vacuum cleaner, I can then throw them away…while she’s not watching. (Shhh! Don’t let on)
Roxy is smaller, perhaps ten inches, not yet middle aged and killer of all things small, with no interest in anything she cant chase and kill. I do not encourage this hunter trait, but after all, Foxies are hunting terriers. Roxy is quite a contradiction as you will soon see.
Her biggest kill so far is a large chicken that she silently dispatched in the time it took to walk the length of my mates driveway behind her. The young chicken was over twice her size, blood smeared and panting she smiled broadly to show how good she was…it did not go down well. Thank goodness his kids (who raised her from a chick) were not there to see what she did…I bought them another chicken because, as their dad said, their chicken had flown away to find a husband and have a family. . .(gotta love a happy ending)

My grandkids love both dogs, Narla for her ball games and Roxy because she’s so very sweet and gentle. The neighborhood kids always stop to play or pat them as they do their rounds, in fact Roxy is the perfect dog for getting scared kids used to dogs.

D3 was staying with me toward the end of her pregnancy when Roxy was still a pup, the dog would lay on her belly, and as the baby grew, she would lay wrapped around the baby bump. It was obvious that there was something going on and when Zach was born the dog would comfort and guard him all the time. When they were together Zach was always relaxed and calm and unlike most babies Zach was always gentle with her, the two continue to share a ‘thing’.

What else?... Oh Yeah,

These dogs LOVE the car, they stare fixated at the scenery rushing by…and all those passing smells, the smells, the smells!
The best smell of all…. apparently, is the beach. They start whimpering within miles of the beach and love to run the deserted beaches running from smell to juicy smell.
The only time that becomes a problem is after the annual Giant Cuttlefish breading season here. Many die after breeding (like Salmon) and wash up on our beaches for a few weeks… Now let me picture this for you
Where you live, Squid will be available. .A Giant Cuttlefish body, without tentacles can be three feet long but are usually less than two feet. Picture a very heavy set Squid that size… now kill it….then leave it in the sun for a week… then place it, and up to one hundred more of them on our one mile long beaches.
Fortunately this happens in winter when you wouldn’t be caught dead going into the water anyway, but it denies access to everyone except the brave icebergers, tourists who want to ‘see’, and dog walkers…

I’m extremely vigilant on our walks in winter, but even so, eventually I will slip up and miss guarding one of the now crispy brown, bloated, maggot bags in amongst the seaweed and other derris on the shoreline….and the dogs will roll in it.
You can see the expression on their faces, a kind of elation as they smear the ink and goo over themselves, occasionally you can see maggots flick off as they shake upon getting up after I yell at them to “Git ***** outa there.. *******” (*#@&*)

Those are the days that the dogs come home in the boot of the car…
Those are the days when, no matter how cold the weather, it’s straight into the bath for a double scrubbing.

Its Autumn, winter will be here soon… the Cuttlies will be here then, and through June and July they will be washing up again…. Oh Joy!!

The Big Hunt

ROXY


Some of you will know that I own two fox terriers, one large kinda fat one and a younger miniature, both female and both feisty.
Tonight they were laying comatose on their bed in the laundry as usual when all of a sudden all hell broke loose. I was alerted by buckets and laundry bin flying around the room and all the din that created. Nala has always been lazy and the idea of actually attacking anything was left to the contents of the dinner bowl, but Roxy has always had a killer instinct. (yeah I know… don’t let your daughters name your dogs!)
I rushed as best I can and closed the door behind me, the object of their interest was hiding behind the mop bucket. I caught a glimpse of the mighty beast…a grey house mouse.
I gee’d them up with tender words of encouragement like ‘GET THE FU**ING THING’… I don’t know quite how, but it’s clear that Fox Terriers understand swear words… and clearly understood my intent.
Suitably stirred up I moved the mop bucket and they raced in after their quarry which ran straight over Roxy’s head, down her back and seemingly away scot free.
I held no great hopes for Narla, she grabbed a mouse once and couldn’t spit it out quickly enough… the fur was like…Oooo yuk! (it got away) But this time she was up to the task and grabbed the suicidal beast.
I say suicidal because… really, here’s a small room with two bored hunting dogs in it…and nowhere to hide. This mouse either was sick of life or had delusions of grandeur. Either way the end was swift, followed by her usual Oooo yuk! dummy spit, where upon Roxy did her usual thing by grabbing it and running off into the house to prevent me giving it a decent burial.
I'm thinking it would be easier to get on my hands and knees and catch it myself than getting it off Roxy, one day she might actually bite me I think. Feisty little bugger! I hate playing tug of war with mice...you’re never quite sure how it might end.
But today was actually a milestone, they’ve learned to hunt as a pack and made a combined kill. Pity any fool mouse that comes their way in the future.