Friday, 16 April 2010

Muskrat On Toast Anyone??

I was woken at 4am to a dog yard firing off. I stuffed my head into the pillow a little harder hoping the noise would stop on it's own, but of course, it didn't. When I got up the cats were both banging at the door to be let in. I figured maybe they had been running around on the lawn (or the brown collection of trimmed weeds that passes as our lawn) so gave it a minute or so after they came in to settle down. Nope.
I grabbed the torch...er sorry...that is the British influence still kicking in...flashlight and headed out to see what was up.
The biggest commotion was coming from down with Newt and the pack of young men (Jack, Snert, Skookum, Astro, Turtle, Bolt, Rocky and Pop) that live around him.

As I was halfway down to them, Cricket passed me by in a slow ambling sort of way. I shone the flashlight at her and realized I could head back to the house - in her mouth was a good sized - and very dead - muskrat.

I've not figured muskrats out. We have pulled more dead muskrats out of the dog yard over the years then any other creatures. Apparently, at this time of year their parents will kick them out and they will go off seeking a piece of stream or swamp to call their own. Our dog yard is on a sandy hill, they had to walk up a very steep bank AWAY from the water and trudge through the woods to get here. Then they approach large, obviously unfriendly canines. What's with that??? One actually climbed into a pen - with 6 ft chainlink walls - that Cricket was in (when we first got Cricket, she had to be penned at night - and yes, this is her second 'muskrat kill').
My thought is that they are suicidal because of being rejected by their mothers and this is the way they choose to end it all. Either that or they are just dumb - really dumb.

Anyway, Cricket eyed me sideways to see if I was going to be brave enough to try and take her prize away from her. I'm smarter then your average muskrat (Cricket weighs over 100 lbs and has never been keen about giving up dead critters), so I just headed back to the house and let her settle down to breakfast.

By now it was 4:25, which was when Mark gets up when he is working days. "Since your up, you may as well make me breakfast", he said as he staggered towards the bathroom. It was pretty warm out, likely too warm to run dogs, and I had actually been thinking of going back to bed. I suggested he share Cricket's muskrat with her. He shot me a look much like Cricket had just shot me.

I sighed and dragged out the frying pan to cook eggs.

Karen

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Aw, you should have done fried eggs with Indian seasoning heheheh

JHen said...

That sounds like a great breakfast. I'm guessing that since he's asking for food Mark is feeling better.

Lee C. said...

If I had been making breakfast he would have had oatmeal! (My husband hates it.)

The Thundering Herd said...

Wooo - I thought that last sentence was going to describe the frying pan as a weapon.

Annika said...

Inquiring minds want to know: what do you do if Cricket has some kind of dead critter that she absolutely shouldn´t eat (if it died of horrible diseases or something)? Is there any way to get them away from her?

granimar said...

Oh Cricket-----YUCK !!!