|Barked: Mon Oct 17, '05 12:21am PST |
|Hey, if you think that's bad, I showed my squirrel kill (well, my half) to a bunch of little kids at the park. I was so proud! They didn't think it was nearly as cool as I did, and they all ran away screaming. Whoops. Same thing happened to me and my doggie friend as sounds like happened to you and yours. We were just at the park minding our own business. Mom wasn't there, but the way whe understands it, dad was playing frisbee with my friend, Finn, and I was running around being my usual happy self when we both saw the little furry thing run accross our paths and up a tree. The squirrels in that park are VERY used to dogs, and seem to know how high most dogs can jump. They seem to enjoy actually taunting dogs from their safe-spots. Well, this one mis-judged how high I could jump, and we got it. We divided it in half like the good and fair dogs we are, and both went parading around with our halves 'till Dad finally got us to drop it, and then he took it away. Darned dad.
It's called prey drive, and it's part of a dog's instinct that's always lurking. Some dogs recognize it more than others. Some choose to take action on it more than others. It's there weather you're big, little, playful, lazy, old, young, well, you get the idea. The other dogs on this thread are right in that 'the taste of blood' does not have an effect on aggressiveness (towards humans, other dogs, or other creatures). It's usually a moving target we hone in on, and the chase is as much or more of the activity than the actual kill.
Here's some proof that it's not the taste of blood, or the desire to kill smaller animals just for the sake of killing. About two years later ( and honestly, a couple more incidents with squirrels and rats), we were at a party. Storm included. The people having the party had several chickens in a small chicken coop in the same area as the party was being held. Storm is a very friendly dog, and was making her rounds visiting with people. She was not in our sight every second, and at one point my huband said to me, "Hmmm... I haven't seen Storm in a bit, have you?" I realized I hadn't seen her in a bit, either. We asked some people, and no one had seen Storm. We started to get a little concerned, and as we searched around, we suddenly saw Storm's rear end --- sticking out of the chicken coop. Well, despite our faith in Storm's obedience and friendliness, we figured no dog could probably resist a bunch of live chickens, and thought we'd have a little explaining and appologizing to do. Turns out we had nothing to worry about. All the chickens were alive and well, and just hangin' out all around Storm, who was laying on her own feather bed. She looked up at us, as if to say, "Oh, hi mom and dad. These are my new friends, the chickens. Can I come and play with them again sometime?". She had jumped the little fence that blocked off the chicken area. So much for the critter-eating-monster image.
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