While I was sleeping late yesterday morning after working this week’s series of night-shifts, Wilbur and Orville caught a rabbit and were having a tug-o-war with it. By the time I woke up, Leigh and the boys had taken what was left of it away from them and cleaned everything up – except for the patches of bloodied snow.
My first question when I heard what had happened was probably quite the same as yours would’ve been, “Did you get any pictures?“. The answer being a resounding “No” from both she and the boys led me out to grab the only snap-shot I could get, the one of Wilbur (above) protectively clutching the last bit of fuzz in his mouth from that conquest.
Now before all you tree-hugging-bunny-kissers start writing, you need to understand that I accept this as being about as natural as hound dogs can get. And even more amazingly is the fact that they actually caught something… since hounds instinctively bark and howl as soon as they see something, giving ample warning to any prey they might be after.
It was a triumphant day for the dogs indeed and I guess rabbit’s feet aren’t so lucky for the rabbits. 
