I may be condemning them for a crime they didn’t commit, and even now I won’t just go hunt them out. But the very next infraction I catch them at, I’m not shooting into the ground.
Torso Boy greeted me in the usual way at half past a little too early, waiting for me to stir and then pouncing – to the extent that a Corgi can be said to pounce. The early morning ritual is invariant: Wait impatiently for Uncle Joel to get his leg on, go out to the juniper grove beside the porch for a pee, rush inside for a cookie, then begin politely but firmly bugging Uncle Joel for breakfast. Caveat: Don’t push it till he’s had his coffee. Humans wake up cranky.
But this morning TB was distracted by a brown lumpy gift somebody had left us right at the base of the closest juniper. And also somebody had peed all over that tree.
This was, at first glance, an unbelievable trespass on the part of a coyote that must be mentally ill. They don’t do this – the very closest coyote scat I ever found was halfway up the driveway. NEVER right next to the cabin.
And yet … Even from the porch this didn’t look like coyote shit. It looked like dog.
(SIDEBAR: Okay, I know what you’re thinking. All I can reply is that if you live in the desert – the real desert, not Scottsdale – you will become more of a connoisseur of shit than your mamma ever told you you’d need to be. It’ll just happen. Moving on.)
Dogs – kept dogs, anyway – and coyotes have completely different diets, and completely different scat. Take my word. Anyway, my first thought upon deciding it was dog shit was “Landlady’s here.” A rational conclusion since she’s due this weekend and Dharma often comes to visit alone. Taking a dump by my front porch steps is rude, but not a shooting offense if it’s Dharma. I thought this was confirmed a little later when I saw fresh dog tracks in Ian’s yard.
Except Landlady isn’t here, and neither is Dharma. I could be drawing the wrong conclusion but I only know of two other dogs that have been hanging around and they’re already on thin ice. Ergo, those dogs seem determined to come to blows with me.
Identifying strange scat on your home turf is never fun. If you’re right and these dogs are roaming around your place, they do have to go. The last thing you want is for the morning walk to be interrupted by dogs trying to maul TB. Joel be careful of the owner, he sounds like a miserable cuss that will not look kindly upon his dogs being shot.
Triple S time. Shoot, shovel, shut up.
Woof.
Other noises.
“What dog?”
And, as was explained to once me by some guy with funny lines and squiggles on his arm, the Portable Universal Terrain Adjustment Tool is capable of both creating a cavity and adjusting it to any size, although there are rumors to the effect that areas with certain terrain features are, shall we say, “self cleaning.”
Will you be carrying more serious “tools” from now on? I would.
“he sounds like a miserable cuss that will not look kindly upon his dogs being shot.”
No, he sounds like he doesn’t give enough of a shit about his dogs to bother controlling them.
Oh hell yes. VERY much too close; they are showing you they are not afraid of you and the next logical behavior is the same but in daylight. They are about to provide you with perfect targets and you would do well to avail yourself of the opportunity before you and TB get ambushed on a future walkie.
I’d add a suggestion to burn and bury. Might help with scent if the cuss comes around with his remaining dog(s) looking around. They have clearly been there, but they are not in fact THERE.
This will not end well.
They have now warned you by marking your property and TBs bladder relief spot as theirs, a very intense conflict escalation. If the progression continues the next step is an actual attack. I hope you are serious about shooting them on sight ’cause IMHO it needs doing ASAP.
My grandad had the same problem many years ago. He captured said dog and wiped its butt, using a rag soaked in turpentine. It never returned.
I recall having the opinion something to the effect of do or don’t, no try ( or half ass) take care of business. My personal favorite is shoot, load up and take for a couple of mile ride followed by an unceremonious dumping in a convenient ditch. Flies gotta eat too…
Sadly, it sounds like a triple S situation. Too bad the owners don’t care enough about their animals or their relationships with the neighbors to keep their animals at home.