Rattlesnakes are nothing; let's talk about rabid dogs

Well, if you thought last week was as exciting or dramatic as farm life could get then you were wrong. If you're scared at this point then either stop reading or at least close your eyes, hug your knees real tight and have someone else read it aloud to you. Spoiler alert: you may have nightmares from this post. Shoot, I may have nightmares after this week.

Before I get started let me say this: thank you to those who were praying for Clint's welding test. It did not go perfectly, but he passed the test on Wednesday and another on Thursday. He said he could definitely feel the prayers and there were obvious advantages that He knew were in answer to prayer. He is now working full - time and already worn out and missing his family. He says it's hard to eat out alone. I'm thinking I'll remind him of that the next time all 6 of us are eating out together and someone sends their soda flying into his lap. :-)

Last week I posted about the boys birthday party. That's when all the problems started. We hosted the party in Patty and Dale's new shed. Clint noticed that Copper, Dalton's black and tan coonhound that Santa brought for Christmas 2007, was cooling himself on the concrete inside the shed. He was right in everyone's way so Clint nudged him and told him to go on. Copper growled at Clint which is completely out of character. Clint figured he was really hot so he let him be. Copper would never hurt a flea and he's not a puppy anymore so he's not the type to beg or mess in your plate. Since he grew out of his over-grown puppy stage he has been the absolute perfect dog and the best friend of our children. The party went without a hitch and Grandma Patty gave Copper all the scraps for being such a good boy.

Tuesday night we got a call from the neighbors that Copper was trying to attack them in their yard. Huh? This sounded odd and this was the neighbor who calls Dalton Luke and Luke Nukey. Anyway, it sounded fishy. Patty sent Dalton down on his bike to bring the dogs home (they had followed Dale down there). Dalton never came back so I went to check on him. Dalton couldn't pull Copper off of this lady's yard. He was determined to eat her alive. It was weird. Lucy (the younger female black and tan) is in her first heat and she was with Copper so I assumed he was acting weird because of that. Dalton finally got Lucy to follow him on his bike and Copper trailed Lucy down the road.

We had out of state relatives for dinner later that night at Dale and Patty's. They might never come back. When they left the house Copper all but tried to eat them alive. Patty tried to shew him off and he came at her. Now we knew something was up. The next morning he ran Dale out of the chicken coop. On Thursday morning I loaded the kids in the van to go to the library and told Copper and Lucy good - bye. For the first time in his life, Copper showed his teeth and growled menacingly at me. That was enough for this fraidy - cat; I was in the van, wondering what in the world was wrong with our family pet and kind of wishing I had my rifle.

As you can already tell, Copper and Lucy were not penned up. Copper's collar had fallen off last week and there was no way for me to grab him.....not that I would have tried at this point. He usually runs at night all through the Hurricane Creek bottoms. We were starting to wonder if he had rabies. Clint called the breeder we bought him from (Santa) and he said that his rabies vaccination was good for 3 years. But by Thursday Dale started packing a rifle everywhere he went on the farm and told us to stay inside. (That was fun!) He spotted a coon right up in the back of the house in the feed lot in the middle of the day. He shot at it and missed and it didn't even startle the coon.

Friday evening we came back from our ballgame and I knew Dale was going to put the dog down as soon as he saw him. Rabies or not, something was wrong and we couldn't take a chance of him attacking the kids. They think Copper is their friend and would have walked right up to him and climbed on his back. When I threw out the last garden scraps at dusk, I noticed Lucy in the yard so I hollered at her. All of a sudden Copper came around the house and lunged onto the deck growling at me. Needless to say, I was behind the screen instantly. He wanted through that door and he did not look anything like the Copper we've always loved. Dalton and I shut the inside door and walked away. 10 minutes later we opened the door back up a crack and he was still in the same position, growling at the door. It was frightening to say the least. It was a good thing in a way, because Dalton knew right then that Copper was not O.K. and needed to be put down. He said he would shoot him himself, because he was his dog. How manly is that? Poor guy. I told him no (obviously) and put him to bed.

Now to the worst part: Dalton's actual birthday is June 27th, the morning after this happened. He woke up on his birthday to find out that Papa had shot his dog. He told me, "It's just like Old Yeller, mom. First Dad left and now my dog has rabies and we had to shoot him." You have to admit, the kid has a point. At least the boy in Old Yeller didn't have to shoot the dog on his birthday.

All Dalton asked for on his birthday was to go see his Dad. I offered to get him a new dog but he said, "If I get a new dog then I have to stay home. I want to see my Dad." All I can say is, "I'm right there with ya, buddy."

Since Lucy was in heat for 2 weeks before and as this was happening, she may have been bred. If so, hopefully Dalton will have one of Copper's pups. He was a beautiful dog (as dogs go. I'm not a fan!) and he certainly was good to my babies. And my corn patch! There were never any coons in the corn last summer. :-)

Please pray for Dalton. I'm glad my kids are growing up on the farm. They see firsthand how nature works. Dogs and cats come and go. Bottle and bucket calves die. Sows lay on (or do worse) to their piglets. And, as experienced yesterday, birds crash dive into the grill on Mama's van. They are seeing that veterinarians have an important job taking care of farm animals; they are also seeing that we do not spend hard earned money on veterinarian bills to treat pets like humans. Human life is sacred. Animals are animals. We'd all do well to learn the difference.

Happy 4th of July! Stay safe. Houseworths eat something for me and try not to blow anything up this year! We're headed to see Dad. Pray for us on the road.

Love to all,

Margie, Dalton, Luke, Mary Caroline and:
Charlie Wade the sheriff of this here town with the pistol whipping power to prove it! He calls his new (unloaded) BB gun his "pistol" and he keeps the others in line with the metal barrel. Hey - I can use all the help I can get.