I slept off and on for most the day and even into the night. Mom kept coming into my doggie bedroom…where my dog bed resides…and checking on me.
Then around late afternoon time I woke up-just woke-up! I got up and padded into the living room and said HI to Dad who was just sitting down to watch the Rural Evening News on RFDTV. He always watches the Rural Evening News for the Corn Report. I sat there for a little spell waiting for him to notice me…I got there just as the Corn Report came on. Pretty soon I started feeling hot so I had to cool myself down—pant, pant, pant…
“Boomer! Stop That!” Dad admonished, “I can’t hear a thing with you panting right by me.”
“BOOMER! You are UP!” Mom came into the living room with a HUGE happy grin!
“Come here, Boom! Come here!” Mom walked toward me and I walked toward her. Once I got to her I flung myself on my back and offered my tummy for rub. I ADORE tummy rubs!
Mom rubbed my tummy. Then she scratched right in that spot where the back leg connects with my ribs—that sweet spot of bliss. For some reason whenever I’m scratched there my back leg goes 50 m.p.h. trying to help Mom scratch! I was in heaven!
Then Mom felt all over me and pronounced me ‘good-to-go’. “Still pretty stiff, Beaglie, but I think you are bruised more than damaged which is a good thing.”
I got up, gave myself a good shake and headed toward the back porch; then out the back door.
She was right…I’m back to my old self!
Just as I hit the door I heard the phone ring—I stopped, sometimes the phone ringing means we get to go do something interesting. I sat down and cocked my head to one side—so I could hear better you understand.
“Hello” that was Mom.
“Well, okay…we’ll come down and see if we can figure this out.”
Getting off the phone Mom told Dad that my oldest human sister just found another hen dead. She said that we (Boomer and Mom) were going down to analyze the murder.
With that she grabbed her jacket; asked me to load up and we were off!
Mom and I skirted the body of the dead hen—then Mom bent down and picked the poor old girl up—mauled, feathers pulled off, skin scuffed up, broken neck….Mom started listing everything off. While she listed I sniffed up the bird really good. Sniffing for clues, you see.
Then I sat down and thought a bit:
Again the hen was in the hen house when found murdered
All the other hens and the rooster were over by the woodpile, not in the hen house
She was still warm
She wasn’t dragged off (this could mean the murder wasn’t hungry OR had gotten scared in the middle of the murder)
It was a black hen…there was only one black hen, now there isn’t any black hens
There were bite marks on the neck in the throat area
Probably walked right into the hen house since the door was wide open to let the chickens free range
Could be anything—coyotes, skunks, badgers, foxes, wild dogs…owl, hawks…darn! It could be anything.
I’m still stuck in the same place I was before!
“Well, you go bury this one and I’ll do a quick clean of the hen house. Then we will put them in for the night.” Mom started raking up the hay and feathers and such.
I started following my oldest human sister, only with my nose to the ground…hummmm this smells interesting…sorta furry, dirty, fluffy…veering off I I left the yard and headed back out toward the old apricot orchard, which is now a pasture.
I do believe I am onto something………………….