A few days ago, we found a dead rabbit down by the creek. 

It wasn’t a peaceful demise, but a horror show.  It looked like that scene in Galaxy Quest where the alien beast is turned inside out by the transporter.

Ever since, when we go outside, Sparky heads straight for it.  He tries to act like he is McGruff, The Crime Dog following a fresh scent.  Instead, he looks like the husky fellas at Golden Corral when they bring out more steak.

Sparky often likes to sleep in.  That gives me an hour or so to have a coffee and ramp up comfortably.  Not this morning.  It was 7:30 am, we’d chatted for a bit, and Sparky was eager to see a man about a horse.

Yeah, fine.  It’s a lovely morning, but I am not prepared to have my coffee outside as we meet the day.  All you get is a slow shamble to the tree.  Sparky was doing his Crime Dog routine and had us half-way to the bunny buffet before I called off the hike.

Starting the day with an argument isn’t pleasant.

House!  Come on Sparky, back to the house.

“Don’t be a pussy.  Let’s just go to the bridge.”

If you’re going to be a jerk, I’ll throw the rabbit over the fence so the coyotes eat it.

“I don’t care, I’ll just eat the coyotes.”

They aren’t afraid.  I heard the coyotes making fun of your shaved patch.  Maybe I’ll shave your whole belly, so they really have a good laugh.

“Go ahead.  The Bushido Code honors symmetry.”

No it doesn’t.  Samurai dogs are supposed to be polite and friendly.  Besides, you’re a ninja dog.  You’re supposed to sneak around and eat any stink bugs that get in the house.

“Really, it says that?  They taste terrible.”

I don’t know, we can check the book when we get back to the house.  Maybe ninja dogs are supposed to play with squeaky mouses.

We went back to the house, and Sparky left me alone for a while.