Lulu and Debby Mayer
Lulu is a backyard huntress all right, but it's not a pretty sight for the one who has to clean up after her. Last October, I was weeding the garden alongside the house after work, while Lulu hung out in her fenced yard in back of the house.
As twilight deepened, I gave up my labors and let myself inside the fence, only to discover that Lulu had a big fat squirrel in her mouth. I recall hearing a few last chirps from that squirrel, before it gave up the ghost. Lulu would not give up the squirrel, would not come to me, would not do anything but run around with her prize. I didn't want to praise her, but neither could I correct her - she was only doing what comes naturally to a huntress in a yard full
of plump squirrels that she had been chasing all summer˜and I didn't want to see her rip the squirrel apart. Nothing to do but tell her no, she could not bring the squirrel indoors, and then wait for dark; even a dead squirrel wouldn't keep her out alone at night. I got my shovel at the ready and at darkness she did drop the squirrel. I shoveled it up, walked the 100-foot length of the yard and across the paved alley thats home to garages on my street, and tossed the squirrel into the no-man's-land of woods across from my yard, for "recycling." After that, Lulu's yard time had focus.
She got smarter, too; she realized that if she sat right under the tree, a squirrel would not come down. She learned to sit at a distance, watching. I fell to praising her for her efforts; really, if she cleaned up every squirrel in the yard, I wouldn't care.
A couple of weeks ago, as Lulu and I left for work, I let her go, leashed up, while I locked the door. When I caught up with her she had a big black crow in her mouth. Oh, Lulu, yuck, go brush your teeth! And in fact, she didn't want to eat crow, she dropped it pretty promptly and I did the thing with the shovel again, and again, I don't like the crows as they're noisy and ugly and crap all over the yard furniture. She can kill them all. And I remind myself that we're outdoors here in Hudson; it's intense, but not as bad as when I discovered Lulu "pointing" a snake in our bedroom in the Hollowville countryside. My concern is that my neighbor across the alley is cleaning up the woods, and what will I do without a place to toss Lulu's triumphs?