Working Ranch Blog
May. 27 2010, 6:20 PM
I’m a bit of a softy. I admit it; I lack the killer instinct. With the exception of rattlesnakes, I simply can’t bring myself to kill something unless it’s threatening me (actually I can’t think of an example of that either).
But living on the ranch has hardened me a bit to death. Sometimes, things just have to be taken care of, like the (possibly rabid) skunk that was on our front porch in the middle of the day, or the porcupine that the dogs had cornered behind my flowerpot. Or today, when we came upon a scout prairie dog in the Ranger.
In case you don’t live in prairie dog country, out here the only thing more devastating to grass than fire is prairie dogs. The little stinkers send out “scouts” this time of the year to check out new places to ruin.
So when we spotted a scout prairie dog today and Gunner (our dog) bailed off and killed it, I tried not to flinch. I know that it was for the best - but that doesn’t mean I had to watch.
The last thing you want when you are roping a sick one in the pasture is to have to worry about dodging prairie dog holes. Plus, this was just a way cooler picture than a dead prairie dog.
What sort of things are hard but necessary for you? Tell me at
