Sunday, January 10, 2016

Unsolved Mystery of the Canine Kind

It is with heavy heart (and most other body parts) that Val reports the loss of poor dumb Ann.

Ann, the mostly black German shepherd/Lab mix, was last seen Wednesday evening, when I fed her a handful of cat kibble and patted her sturdy, coarse-haired back. Juno DID run to meet me that evening, but did not stick around, heading instead for the vicinity of Hick over by the BARn, where he was burning something mysterious that might or might not have been the top branches of my driveway cedar tree.

Both dogs had run barking through the yard after The Pony, who trotted up the driveway towing the big green trash dumpster like a chariot. They raced back down, and when I was slow getting my stuff out of T-Hoe, Juno took off. Not Ann, though. She loves loved her some cat kibble, too.

Thursday morning, we did not see either dog. I heard them, though, at 5:00 a.m., through the wall of the master bathroom. It sounded like they were over by the BARn, or on the gravel drive by Hick's Shedville. They bark a lot in the mornings. I didn't think much of it. Nor the fact that they did not see us off on the way to school.

Thursday evening, we got home after Hick. He drove his Gator all the way to the garage to tell me that he couldn't find Ann. Juno was there, awaiting her kibble, but chased off after Hick on the Gator before she could eat it. Those dogs purely loved galloping in front of Hick. The minute he starts that engine, the woofing would start, and the scrabble of toenails on porch wood. So if Ann did not come running for the Gator parade, she was not around the house.

Hick drove all over the grounds looking for Ann. Down to the cabin. In all of his structures. Twice. Even under the porch. No Ann. We cannot imagine what might have happened to her. I find it quite a coincidence that the roofers worked one day, Wednesday, and then our dog disappeared on Thursday while we were at work.

Every day, Hick looked some more. No Ann. We have conjured up several possible scenarios.

Dognapped. Maybe one of the roofers thought Ann looked like a sturdy, reliable, fierce guard dog, and came out to take her on a day the roofers didn't work due to rain in the forecast.

Murderous Attack. This is Hick's thought. That maybe the Devil Poodle across the road, with its accomplice, that thick black-and-tan bobtailed dog, chewed up poor dumb Ann and killed her. Trouble is, no carcass. Even if she had a shred of life left, Ann would have crawled back into our yard or onto the porch. That's where I saw all the skirmishes over the summer. The neighbor dogs would come right up into our yard, and our dogs would turn and run for the porch while their enemies followed, until I hollered to run them off.

Careless Accident. Maybe poor dumb Ann was chasing a rabbit, and slipped into the sinkhole way down in the woods.

Devious Accident. Maybe a roofer ran over her, and carted off the evidence. The timing isn't right for this scenario, though, because they worked Wednesday, and Ann was still here that evening.

Hunting Accident. Ann had been dragging a deer leg home every couple of days, from the direction of our other 10 acres over by the BARn. I thought maybe she was scavenging a leg, and a poacher mistook her for a wild boar. Or maybe some kids sighting in their gun shot her for sport. Hick thought she might have tried feeding on some poacher's hanging deer. Still. There would have been evidence.

Old Dog's Time. Ann was 10 years old. I think our dog Grizzly made it to 13, the longest of all our pets. So far. We found him stretched out for a nap in the sun, never to awake, when we got home from our first day of school one August. And Tank the beagle was only 7 or 8 when he took the permanent nap, and was found by Hick under the porch. The thing is...we don't have Ann's remains to bury in the pet cemetery in the side yard.

Whatever happened to her, Ann had a good life here. We took her in and fed her more than regularly. She had the run of many acres, canine and feline companionship, limitless rabbits, countless squirrels, and a house of her own. No fences. No chain. A family who loved her. A Gator to chase.

Ann wasn't the smartest dog in our pack. But she will be missed.

When the weather warms up in the spring, Hick says I can get a puppy.

12 comments:

  1. Sorry to hear that, if she doesn't come limping home it's a shame to not be able to give her a final resting place.

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    1. But we can hold out hope that she was stolen, and is being cared for. Still, some closure would be nice.

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  2. I'm sorry for your loss. However, if Ann has crossed over The Bridge, she is in a place where a Gator is revving up its engine every few minutes... where there are deer legs to gnaw on and deer carcasses to roll in... where SHE is the victor against the Devil Poodle.

    A puppy? How about a two-year old golden? Radar is available, and he can dig the foundations for as many outbuildings as Hick dreams of.

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    1. We're puzzled as to a lack of remains. I asked my sweet, sweet Juno what happened to Ann as I was petting her before the cat kibble. She stopped wiggling and wagging and ducked her head, then looked into my eyes. She knows something, but she ain't sayin'.

      We must have a puppy so it can learn its place in the pack. It is hard to teach a grown dog not to eat the chickens. A puppy, however, sees that the older dog(s) leave the chickens alone. That, and when a rooster gets after it, are the best teachers.

      Also, a puppy learns that it lives here. I am afraid a dog like Radar, with boundless energy, might start running and forget where he started.

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  3. Deepest sympathy for you over the loss of Ann. It's always hard.

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    1. Thank you. She was a big part of my boys' childhood. We've lost 3 pets since Genius went off to college. It's like the end of another era.

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  4. This is so sad. Someone stole my granddaughter's boxer, probably thinking he was a pit bull. She went straight to Craig's List and told her story. Someone said they saw him running miles away. He'd bounded from the bed of a pick up truck. His paw pads were scratched, but she got her baby back. Hope you do too, or at least learn what happened to her. So sorry.

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    1. Well, a neighbor stole our cat, but since he kept her inside, and she didn't really like any of us but me...we looked at it as giving her up for catoption.

      Another cat, the best one, Genius's cat, Genius-the-Cat, disappeared for a month, then turned up well-fed and ready to resume his role as top cat. With the new strange habit of standing on his hind legs and grasping the doorknob with his front paws to try to get in the house. Hick thinks he accidentally rode to town on the toolbox in the back of Hick's truck. I think somebody tried to catopt him and he got away.

      Why can't these people find their OWN dumped pets and quit taking ours?

      If only Ann was taken. I fear the worst, though.

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  5. It's the not knowing that's so hard. I've never had that happen with a dog but I've lost several cats that way. It takes a while to stop looking out for them and it would just be so much easier to know whatever the truth is. I hope you find some closure.

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    1. Yeah. We just want to know. All we know right now is that I'm getting a puppy in the spring.

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  6. Poor Ann. My old cat Gremlin disappeared. He was 16 and I have always wondered if one of the pipeliners ran over him and did away with the evidence. I prefer to think that he knew it was his time and went off by himself. I doubt he would still be alive at 21 ..... If somebody did take her, let's believe that they really wanted her and will love her.

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    1. Yes. Until we find the remains, that will be what I believe. The other departed pets stayed near home, but waited until we were gone or asleep to pass on.

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