So as I have previously mentioned, I am an amazing hunter, or rather tracker since I’ve never actually killed anything. By the way if you are a hunter yourself and are in need of a trusty tracker dog my going rate starts at $250/hour, or a pack of brand new squeaky balls will work just fine. As long as the animal you’re hunting isn’t much bigger than me, it’s all game. But if you’re hunting cats then it’s free.
For anyone that doesn’t really know dachshunds, you probably think it’s “dash-hound”, as in, speedy-hound dog. But no, it’s pronounced “dack-sund” and it’s German for badger dog – hence my uncanny instincts for hunting vermin. But I am speedy nonetheless, so feel free to call me speedybadgerdog. Anyway, back to the point. The other day I heard some squabbling under the deck of my summer home. I don’t tolerate any sort of living presence on my land besides my owners and certain approved guests (which aren’t many), so I immediately jumped into action and began sniffing out the perpetrator.
I found a hole to at the side of the deck (see picture). It wasn’t quite wide enough for me to fit through, so I put my two front shovels to work. Despite the annoying, high pitched squeals of concern from my mum, I followed the hole to find the source of the smell. As I suspected, it was a damn gopher, and he was totally undermining my front deck with his pesky holes.
I saw the gopher and was about to bite his face off, but blood makes me icky so I restrained myself. I was in quite a dilemma. I couldn’t very well let the sucker go and tarnish my reputation as a hunter/tracker, but I also couldn’t hurt the guy – it just wasn’t in me. Besides, it’s usually the human that does the hunting and the dog that just does the tracking.
So, I told the gopher he better stay in his hole and off my land or next time, I would bite his face off. I think he believed me, because I never saw him again. Luckily, gophers don’t keep up with celebrity stuff so he didn’t recognize me, otherwise it could have been awkward.
Now, I can relax on my front deck, sprawled under the sun with a ball nearby – with no gopher sounds in earshot. Just the way I like it.
Keep ballin’
~ Crusoe
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