Sunday, March 6, 2016

Feeding Puppies Living Down the Lane

Saturday is my day to do nothing or clean house, whatever comes first. My dogs and I enjoyed chicken livers for lunch. We had our feet up on the porch doing nothing, when I thought about the puppies.

With all the wonderful animal advocates on the island these babies may have been rescued already; I wondered, but mixed a tray of kibble with a coating of liver, yum, just in case.   
They ran around my car barking, clearly excited to see the food I bring, and then scurried into the hole in the fence for safety.
I’m guessing that the only time they’ve been handled is when the culprit snatched them from their mom for a car ride to the country.
Lovely Larita
If anyone will catch them again, they need some pleasant time with a human, so I toss liver soaked kibble at their feet. They still act as if they don’t know what kibble is and they hesitate to eat, but soon they gobble what I toss a safe distance. Tossing and talking. Tossing and talking; gradually they calm in my presence, but are far from trusting to the point where I realized they are in a fear period of development. Since I know a thing or two about puppy development, I spent more time tossing and talking before putting the food trays down.
Moselle watching.
Curly leaning into the dish.

Frightened little puppies leaned into the food dish as if something would grab them. I left so they could finish their meal in peace.
In the rear view mirror I saw a couple of the Counselor Ridge Crewe crouching towards the food. These are dogs so betrayed by man that I can’t get near.

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