For two years, bupkis. Then a few days ago, he "caught" a coon, had it cornered in a rather deep, steep drainage ditch across the road. He hates to get wet, never mind swim (those little short legs), but he was NOT letting that coon away. I brought Penny (one year old coonhoud cross) over to help, figured it would be a good training opportunity for her, since I've seen her chase animals away but never actually corner or kill. Wendyll wouldn't let her come down on his side of the ditch, he made her stay on the other side. She smartly harried the raccoon from the back, driving it towards Wendyll, while deftly avoiding sharp teeth. She tried to take it by the neck once, but Wendyll wouldn't let her--at that point, he went for the throat and held it underwater (poor guy being almost up to his eyeballs himself). When the kicking slowed, Penny dashed out and circled, looking for more. Wendyll tried to shake it, and haul that fat, heavy male up out of the ditch to finish the job, but couldn't. I went over and pulled it up. It was all poor old W could do to take the fat thing across the road to our lawn, and he couldn't get enough grip/traction to shake him and finish him off. I did it for him, and he proudly guarded "his" kill all night. Penny wasn't even allowed a sniff. Penny got treats for helping, and Wendyll got extra treats I was hoping to skin it to use for further training, but it had already started to bloat and smell by the next day, so it went to the back forty
And then tonight. I have a hen with babies who beds down right by my back door. I keep a light on back there, so she can see if anything is coming, *just in case*. Well, just in case happened tonight. 10:30 at night, and all of a sudden Mama hen is raising a ruckus. I peer out, and see mama milling about, cackling in fear, babies still in their spot and huddled. I step out the door, and twenty feet away by the red maple, is another sleek fat male raccoon just staring at me. I call Penny, but she's inside, in my bedroom, cowering under my bed because The Lawnmower Man (think Moose from The Archie comics) next door was setting off fireworks not long before. Raccoon decides I am trouble and starts up the tree. I call Wendyll, who gets up out of bed, shakes off the stiffness and comes to see what I am yelling and pointing about. It takes him a confused second, but then he's off. Coon sees him coming and climbs faster. Little |Wendyll leaps SEVEN feet up the trunk, grabs the coon by his behind, and brings him down. The sucker is nearly as big as the dog. Said sucker tries to bite Wendyll, and in the confusion shortly makes for the next tree, running this time. Again, Wendyll leaps almost seven feet up the tree, but falls just short and only catches some tail hair, and coon climbs high. I go for the crossbow, but cannot get it strung, loaded, and safety off before coon makes my house roof, and from there to the big cedar, and then gone, with Wendyll in hot pursuit.
I used to keep the Xbow cocked near to the door for just such occasions, but it's hard on the string, and I quit doing it when Penny started running predators off. Silly me, I should have been prepared for firework phobia on Canada Day. I finally convinced her to get out from under the bed around 11:30. She went out, sniffed around the tree, did her business, looked at me and wagged, sniffed the air and caught the lingering scent of fireworks, and then ran straight for under my bed again. Where she still is, at 2:20 in the morning. It's something she never does, preferring the cool dirt outside or a spot by the door for a nap.
I hope Wendyll catches the cocky chicken-thieving
, or at least that he's scared enough he doesn't come back with reinforcements. Penny might be traumatized for days, I have no way of knowing. Guess I better go buy some marshmallows and bait the traps.
