Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Pompom paused at the sight of a blue-tailed skink sunning itself on a rock, his entire body stiffening. The two humans watched the dog, who was totally focused on the lizard.
“If he was only a little larger, Pompom could hunt for us, Dr. Murray.”
Alexander started to say something snide about the animal, then stopped himself.
“Would he bring us a deer, do you think?”

 Castaway Dreams  c. 2011 (WIP)

The bichon in my WIP (work in progress) may not have been able to bring down a deer, but I once had a hound who could.  I was pleased this morning to read the news about Westminster Dog Show and see that the Redbone Coonhound is now recognized in  the competition.  When I was growing up we lived for a time outside Naples, Florida near to the sawgrass and hunting country.  One morning we awoke to find a dog on our doorstep, hungry, footsore, gun-shy and pregnant.   We couldn't find an owner, and the dog adopted us.  She was a huge Redbone hound and she was a delightful companion with a deep chest and a baying voice that you could feel in your bones when she'd give it full throat.

My current hound is a more economy-sized dachshund.  I like the portability of the smaller breed, but she has the same attitude as the big dogs.  In her heart she's a Redbone, and if she ever see any teeny-tiny deer in the neighborhood she'll show us what she can do.  For now, she's content to hunt moles and mice, and does excellent work keeping the rodent population under control.

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