Thoroughly. Grossed. Out.

Super Dog disgusts me sometimes. And this particular time, she really knocked it outta the park.

As if it weren't bad enough that my beautiful yellow Lab rolls in unknown animals' crap whenever she comes across it, completely mucking up her beautiful coat and stinking to high hell.

After what I saw yesterday, I'd gladly have her roll in a huge, steaming pile of fresh elephant dung. And then leap into my arms.

Sadly, Super Dog has moved on to something even more disgusting and foul than rolling in shit: She's apparently decapitating bunnies in the backyard now, and tossing their heads around for fun. Ick, ick, ICK!!!

I'm not joking about this. Not at all. I wish!

Yesterday afternoon, with my parents at our house for a visit, we let Super Dog out to go potty. My mom stepped outside for a minute to get something from her car, and when she came back in, she was grimacing like she'd just smelled something bad.

I asked, "What's wrong?"

The perma-grimace continued. "Um... I think Super Dog killed something in the backyard. She was tossing it around. And it's bloody."

Good God...

I threw on my Crocs and raced out the back door to find my lovely pooch standing over something mangled and - yes - bloody. I shooed her away as I crept slowly closer to the thing on the grass near Super Boy's swingset, cringing as I caught the unnaturally crimson-colored fur.

From a distance, it looked like a dead chipmunk, perhaps. It wouldn't be the first time Super Dog has managed to capture one of those, although she's never chewed on one to the point where we've seen blood.

As I got closer, I saw long-ish flat ears. And then a cute little nose. And big black eyes. But... no body. Ugh....

I turned my face away as I felt bile rise in my throat, and then suddenly recalled seeing Super Dog hanging out in the very back corner of our yard, just another 10 or so feet away. I moved in that direction with one eye closed and the other barely open, praying I wouldn't find the rest of the poor rabbit's carcass.

No such luck.

In the back corner, hidden in the trees, was a large old rabbit's body missing its head. And it was stinky. (Naturally. Leave it to Super Dog to be attracted to the stench.)

Before I tossed my lunch, I ran back into the house and quietly informed Super Man that he needed to go dispose of the rabbit carcass before Super Boy went outside. He asked where it was, and I explained in a largely spelled-out conversation (due to Super Boy's presence in the room) that it would be a "two step job." His olive skin blanched as he gritted his teeth, grabbed some plastic shopping bags and trudged out the door. He came back in a few minutes later looking as thoroughly nauseous as I felt. Ick...

Needless to say, there've been NO doggie kisses to speak of this weekend. In fact, every time Super Dog even brushes her face against my leg I feel like I need to go take a really hot shower. I'm completely grossed out by what she did, even though I know that it's the hunter in her that reared it's ugly head.

I think maybe we need to consider going with a Chihuahua next time...


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