OH! And watching them hunt is a TRIP . . .
Both Grrrls followed Bimmer around religiously - he is the master of the hunt and he took it upon himself to teach them, not only the hunt, but the etiquette of the hunt. They learned in a hurry that if you kill it, you eat it. If someone else kills eat, leave it alone.
Shiva caught her first groundhog when she was about six months old. Bimmer had it scoped for her and kept its attention and let her take the kill. She was so proud of herself! Just ran right in there with no to-do at all and snatched it up and crushed its throat like he taught her. Bimmer doesn't kill like a dog, he kills silently like a wolf and he's taught the grrrrls how to do the same. Shiva pranced up to him and showed it to him, wriggling all over, then pranced over to me to show it to me.
And to eat it.
She wasn't quite sure about how to go about eating a groundhog, so she started head first. Grabbed the tongue and started pulling on it like it was a stubborn string of melted cheese on a pizza . . . . When she got that part dealt with and started crunching the head it was time for me to go inside . . .
Kharma caught her first groundhog with Bimmer's assistance when she was five and a half months old. She's more of a stalker than Shiva, and she crouched down like a cat - even with the feline butt-wiggle just before charging and pouncing. Got him too. She was so excited she forgot where to bite to kill so she just started biting down from one end of the groundhog to the other. Had to feel sorry for the poor varmint! It was quick though.
Kharma dragged her kill off under the bushes without further ado and had her snack.
I tell people they like fast food - anything that's not quite fast enough to get away.
Shiva has figured out how to kill skunks without getting sprayed. She seems to think they are pretty tasty, too. We keep finding skunk pelts in the yard - clean of meat with just the top of the head still attached and underneath the tail where the musk glands are located. She'll have just a faint odor around her jowls . . .
Kharma is death on the big, vicious barn rats.
And they both have an ongoing feud with the squirrels
A coyote ran across the road in front of the car the other night when I had Kharma with me. Every time we come to that section of road now she's up and alert, watching out the car windows for it.
Filas hold a grudge. Forever. But those are other stories