Jen’s parents and their two and a half year-old daughter are here visiting from Saskatchewan.  On Saturday they dropped by the orchard for a quick tour and Steve gave Jen’s mom, Michelle, some pruning tips she’d been after.  While moseying down the rows of apples, Rolo suddenly darted off into the gully and came back moments later with a freshly dead and limp marmot dangling from his chops.  Michelle shrieked in terror at the sight of our dog being transformed into a savage beast as he tore the entrails out of the still-warm marmot.  She tried to shield her daughter and Abby from the horror that is the circle of life, but to no avail.  We left Rolo to happily munch his prey while we walked the path to the top of the orchard.  Once we reached the yard, Rolo came bounding up towards us, blood on his lips and paws.  Not a moment had passed before he was on the attack again, pouncing at something stirring in a dirt pile.  Triumphantly he emerged with a mangled mouse firmly between his mouth and he trotted away to devour his dessert.  I think Rolo was simply trying to show off for our guests, but I’m not sure how impressed they were with his hunting talents. 

I am not entirely comfortable with the notion of Rolo swallowing whole creatures (he wolfs down bones, fur, eyeballs, brains, everything!) he’s stalked in the orchard. But Steve always says, "What do you think wild dogs did before kibble was invented?"  I guess I just wished they were happy little vegan dogs, gumming on grasses and pine cones.

We make sure to keep Rolo’s rabies shots up to date, and we always rinse the blood off his paws before he comes back inside.  What more can we possibly do? 

And hey, it keeps the kibble cost down.