Puppy Jack has been a bad, bad boy.
It's bad enough that he chases the chickens, and sometimes pulls out a tail feather. At least he's never killed one. Even though Hick found one dead right beside the chicken house this morning. I saw it there last night when I was giving them water, and I think it's been there a few days, because I smelled something dead the day Hick left.
Anyhoo...at least Jack used to stop, eventually, when we hollered at him for chasing the chickens. That's when he was brazen enough to do it in front of us. One afternoon, I heard such a ruckus from within the concrete walls of my dark basement lair that I thought a massacre was in progress. The chickens get up under the porch, and there was a cacophony of fowl screams. I feared that one of the neighbor dogs had invaded, and actually got up off my ample rumpus and went upstairs to look out.
When I stepped out onto the porch, I heard the chickens squawking and Jack yipping. I hollered at him a couple times, and then a white chicken shot out the opposite end of the porch from where the noise was, and Jack soon followed. I had the BB gun in my hand (from my childhood, not like one of those modern pump-up models) in case it was a neighbor dog. I hollered at Jack to stop. Not in so many words. Just, "JACK! NO!" But he kept going, so I drew a bead on his long little side, and pulled the trigger. Those BBs move so slow out of that old toy that you can watch them fly through the air. You have to aim high, because the BB drops by the time it gets there.
Let the record show that Val is a pretty good shot. That BB hit Jack in his middle, and I swear he jumped straight up in the air, did a 180, and looked in my direction like "WTF?" It has not done anything to stop his chicken-chasing, though, so we are going to go the shock collar route. The sooner the better.
Friday night, Jack took off after one of the guineas, because all the chickens were roosting in the trees. I hollered at him several times. I was even down in the yard, right by him when he took off.
Guineas are not really built for flying, you know. But this annoying guy made it to the porch roof, and then up onto the ridge cap. Jack couldn't figure it out. He ran around and around the porch, barking and looking for it. He's a stubborn little imp.
The guinea (they are noisy, mean birds who grab the chickens by their tail feathers and sling them around, and monopolize any treat such as strawberry tops that you might throw out for the chickens) stayed up there about 20 minutes. I know when he came down, because I was inside the house, and heard a giant THUD on the metal porch roof. I guess he flew to that level, and then on down.
Jack is going to give one of those fowl a heart attack if we don't get him trained.
Let the record show that Jack was unharmed by the shooting incident.