The Numerous Benefits of Chasing Wild Rabbits

(Chapter 2 from the book "The Chicken Who Didn't Know Where to Lay Her Eggs")

The relationship between Shellie and Dingo, the rat terrier, had started out cautiously.

When Shellie first made her appearance, Dingo's curiosity made him want to get as close to the little chick as possible, but Paula did all she could to prevent him from doing so.

When Shellie had hatched, Dingo was already a year old. He was fully grown and his rat terrier personality had already become highly pronounced. He was full of energy and aggressive, if not particularly brave.

He had complete run of the house, the farm yard, and the farm. Paula had installed a dog door for him in the back door that led into the kitchen so that he could go in and out whenever he wanted. He had developed a daily routine by then. He got up early in the morning with Mike and Paula, made his rounds in the yard, came back in for breakfast, slept a while, went on a few trips in the SUV with Paula during the day, ate supper, made his nightly rounds soon after dark, and came back in to sleep on his blanket in the pantry for the night. Sometimes, he even went out in the middle of the night to make another round in the yard. He felt it was his duty as a top dog to keep watch over the house and yard at all times.

Dingo could also be quite a vain dog. He enjoyed lying in front of any mirror he could find and looking at himself. To make him as happy as possible, Paula had eventually placed a door-sized mirror beside his bed in the pantry so that he could look at himself whenever he wanted. Before he went to sleep at night, he would strut back and forth in front of the mirror while looking at himself. He practised the most threatening-looking walk he could muster. Mike said Dingo was the only dog he knew who spent more time in front of a mirror than a woman.

Like most young rat terriers, Dingo was rambunctious and had his nose in everything. He enjoyed barking at, chasing, and – if possible – catching everything he saw.

And he loved to dig. He dug holes under the house, in the yard, in the field behind the house and everywhere else he went. He particularly loved digging when there was a rabbit or mole or mouse underground. To him, that was one of his main jobs in life, and he did it as well as he possibly could.

Paula didn't try to stop him. She figured that if she was going to have a rat terrier, she was going to let him be a rat terrier. She let him bark, dig and chase almost as much as he wanted. The only thing she wouldn't let him do was bark at and chase the chickens and other farm animals. That particularly included Shellie.

Dingo certainly wanted to, but he had learned early on that the consequences weren't worth it. He knew that if he got caught, Paula would put him in the kennel for several days. She would then take him out for a walk only three or four times a day. The worst part was that when she took him out for a walk, she made him walk on a leash.

Dingo hated walking on a leash. He felt completely robbed of his dignity. As he was fully aware, no respectable country dog – and particular no respectable rat terrier – walks on a leash. It was the harshest of insults to his rat terrier pride. To him, maintaining an image of toughness was 90% of being an effective rat terrier. Just one day of walking on a leash could immediately erase months of hard-earned respect that had come from working on and polishing his image.

So when Shellie hatched, Dingo knew better than to try to catch her. He had already spent too much time in the kennel and on the end of the leash. He didn't want to risk that again.

At times, though, the thought crossed his mind. But Paula would always see the look on his face and say, "Dingo, don't even think about it."

When Paula put the freshly hatched Shellie in a box on the kitchen counter, Dingo could hear her chirping. Never before had Paula kept a little chirping creature like that in the kitchen. Until this new addition had come along, all the chickens and ducks and their babies had stayed in the farm yard.

Dingo found the situation stressful. He had never had to truly share Paula's attention with any other animal while he was in the house. Until then, he was her main companion, if you didn't count Mike and the cat who showed up occasionally. She took him fishing with her and let him sit on her lap while she was driving the SUV. While he was sitting on her lap, Paula would often sniff his left ear. When she had first done that, he had jerked his head away. But after she kept doing it again and again, he eventually just started putting his ear up to her nose every time he sat on her lap while in the SUV. It had somehow turned from an irritating and strange thing to do to a very comforting one over time. And it in no way impaired his image.

The only other creature that offered the least bit of competition was the cat, but her competition wasn't serious. She sometimes came inside the house, but she didn't stay long. Sometimes she even disappeared for months at a time. Her attitude seemed to be that she had better things to do than sit around with a dog and humans. She only showed up when she wanted something, which was usually Dingo's food.

But there was nothing Dingo could do about this new competition. Paula kept the box high up on the counter out of Dingo's jumping range. Even when he sprang as high as he could, he couldn't reach her.

The chick chirped constantly. The noise annoyed Dingo, particularly since he couldn't get a good look at what was making it. Where he normally lay on his blanket in the pantry, he could hear the chirping all day long.

When Dingo was tired and wanted to go to sleep, he would often stick his head as far in the corner of the pantry as he could to get away from the chirping. He couldn't even see himself in the mirror from there. Sometimes, he went so far as to put his paws over his ears. But none of that seemed to help much. The chick kept chirping. It was as if she were screaming, "What happened? Where is everybody? Why have you left me here alone in this box?"


Finally, after nearly three days of constant chirping, the chick gradually became quieter. Paula took her out of her box several times a day and talked to her. The chick really seemed to like that. As long as Paula talked, the chick remained quiet.

Dingo would stare at the little chick sitting on Paula's lap. He would sit at a safe distance away. He wondered if Paula would start sniffing the chick's ear the way she had done his.

Paula wouldn't let him get anywhere near the chick. All she had to do was raise her eyebrows at him and he would back away.

When the chick was almost a week old, Paula finally introduced her to Dingo. Paula held the chick in one hand and placed her other hand firmly on the back of Dingo's neck. She cautiously moved her hand with the chick to about three inches in front of Dingo's nose.

"Dingo, this is Shellie," Paula said, as if she were introducing a church visitor to the preacher. "Shellie, this is Dingo."

Paula held them both there for a few moments until Dingo relaxed a little. Then she said, "Come on, Dingo. Let's take Shellie for a walk."

Once outside with Dingo and Shellie, Paula carefully placed Shellie on the ground.

She turned to Dingo and said, "Dingo, you can walk with us, but you can't get too close, not yet at least. You have to stay at least five feet away."

Paula slowly started walking. Shellie stayed right at her heels.

Dingo followed at a distance. Every time he got closer than five feet, Paula would stop and say, "Dingo...."

She would point her finger to a spot at least five feet away and say, "That's as close as you can get. For now at least."

Dingo would move back away from Shellie.

He found all this highly frustrating. He was normally the one who was allowed to walk right at Paula's heels. For some explained reason, this tiny little furry-feathery creature had now taken his place.

Dingo's curiosity was also driving him crazy. He wanted to get a close-up look at this new creature. He wanted to go right up to her and sniff her all over. He didn't understand where this little creature had come from and why she had suddenly become the center of attention for Paula. He felt less important than before. But there didn't seem to be a lot he could do about it.

As time went on and Shellie grew bigger, Dingo began to get used to her. He soon realized that she wasn't so bad after all. Each day, she chirped less than the day before. She didn't try to steal his food or take over his bed like the cat did. She didn't seem to have a spiteful bone in her body, and she didn't act jealous when Paula petted, talked to or took walks with him. At any rate, he found her better than the cat.

Paula even began letting Dingo get nearer Shellie when all three of them went for a walk. After a few weeks, Dingo and Shellie even started walking side-by-side. It just seemed to be the logical thing to do. The two of them together could spot a fox creeping up on them far better than only one of them alone could.

When Shellie was about six months old, Dingo even learned to appreciate her.

That day had started out ordinarily enough. It was a typical June 2.

Shellie, Dingo and Paula were in the kitchen. Paula had just finished washing the lunch dishes. She had a slightly sad look on her face. She had moved very slowly while washing the dishes, something she usually did quickly and cheerfully. She dried off the dishes unenthusiastically and put them way. When she was finished, she walked over to one of the kitchen cabinets and took an old photo album down from the top shelf.

It was the first time Shellie had ever seen the album.

Paula sat down and began looking through the photos. Sometimes she would touch one, as if she wanted to have contact with the person there. At times, she smiled. At times, she got a very sad look on her face. Finally, she sighed deeply, closed the album, got up and put it away.

It was near 1:30 in the afternoon.

Paula turned on the TV to check the weather report. The weatherman promised clear skies for the rest of the day. He said the temperature would stay in the low 90s for most of the afternoon, and then a gentle wind with slight cooling would start in late afternoon or early evening.

Paula said to Shellie and Dingo, "Looks like this evening will be perfect for a little fishing trip. Let's go dig some worms."

Shellie and Dingo immediately jumped up. They both enjoyed going with Paula to dig worms, although for different reasons.

Paula got her worm can and the claw-shaped worm-digging tool out of the garage. The three of them walked to the worm bed in the back yard. The worm bed was actually an old refrigerator with the door removed that Paula had placed on its back and filled with rich soil. It was a small point of contention between Mike and his wife. Mike repeatedly told her that the old refrigerator made the back yard looked junky, as if they were poor. Paula told him that she would be glad to let him build her a fancy, high-tech, state-of-the-art, non-junky-looking worm bed. All he had to do was take the time. But he never got around to it. So the old refrigerator stayed.

The refrigerator was a place of great interest both to Shellie and Dingo. Shellie liked it because Paula occasionally threw her an earthworm as she dug. Shellie knew she could count on getting about one out of every 20 worms Paula dug up. Since Paula regularly sprinkled chicken pellets in the worm bed, all the worms were very well-fed and plump. Shellie found them much juicier and tastier than the other earthworms she found in the yard. Those were usually skinny, tough and stringy, plus they had a slightly bitter taste. The earthworms from the old refrigerator were sweet, spongy, moist and creamy, like elongated Little Debbie Cakes for chickens.

Dingo, of course, wasn't interested in the worms. The old refrigerator fascinated him for another reason: It attracted lots of mice and rabbits. They liked to lie in the cool soft ground underneath and drink from the pan of water Paula kept there just for them.

As Paula dug for worms, Shellie stood beside her waiting for her to throw her one. Dingo stayed busy sniffing the ground near the old refrigerator.

Suddenly, Dingo let out a loud yip. He took off running toward the field.

Paula looked up and said to Shellie, "Looks like Dingo's found a rabbit. I reckon he'll be busy the rest of the afternoon. Hope he has enough energy to go fishing this evening."

Paula and Shellie watched Dingo chase the rabbit out into the field. The rabbit knew exactly where he was going. He quickly disappeared in a hole along the edge of the field.

Dingo followed him right to the hole.

The hole was the perfect size for the rabbit, but Dingo could do no more than stick his head part of the way in. Dingo sniffed and yipped, sniffed and yipped. He could smell the rabbit.

Paula said to Shellie, "That rabbit's just sitting there underground laughing his head off at Dingo."

Dingo started digging furiously. He dug for a few moments, stuck his snout in the hole and sniffed for the rabbit, and then dug some more. He dug so furiously that he created small puffs of dust around him.

"He'll never get him," Paula said to Shellie. "That rabbit's too smart."

Paula dug a few more worms, gave Shellie one last one, and said, "OK. That's enough. I'll give you some more once we get to the Dark Pond."

Paula and Shellie headed back to the house. Dingo kept digging.

Back at the house, Paula put the worms in a cool place under the garage. She and Shellie went back in the house.

Paula turned on the TV. She clicked the remote control until she found the baseball game she wanted to watch. She and Shellie settled down together in the easy chair. Paula gave Shellie a kernel of corn even though no one had hit a home run yet. She told Shellie it was a special day.

A couple of hours later, Paula and Shellie heard the dog door in the kitchen make its flapping sound. Dingo had finally came home.

They heard Dingo drink at least half a bowl of water. Then he headed their way in the living room. His toenails clicked on the linoleum as he sluggishly walked across the floor. They could tell just from the dragging sound of his gait that he was worn out.

Dingo came into the room and looked up at Paula and Shellie.

As Paula had expected, Dingo hadn't caught the rabbit. If he had, he would have brought it home with him to show it off. But she knew that he wasn't disappointed. She knew that he, like most males, found the chase more enjoyable than the catch.

Dingo's eyes were bright and shining with excitement. He was also quite a sight to see. He was covered with so much dust and dirt that his hair, which was normally white, was reddish brown all over.

"Dingo, you're too dirty to come in here. You have to stay in the kitchen," Paula told him.

Dingo obeyed. He had been through this numerous times before. He knew that the only way he could come in the living room was first to get a bath, and that was one thing he disliked almost as much as being placed in the kennel and walked on a leash.

By this time, Shellie was getting a little bored with the baseball game. Not one home run had been hit today, and the corn bowl was just as full as when the game had started. She decided to go into the kitchen with Dingo. Even though Dingo wasn't a chicken, Shellie found him to be a good companion. He was always good for a surprise.

Dingo was as tired as he could be. All the digging and chasing under the hot sun had left him fully exhausted. He went straight to his blanket, lay down facing the mirror, stretched his head out in front of him and got ready to take a nap.

Then it started. When Dingo was just about to fall asleep, a crawling and biting feeling started on his skin. Dingo sat up and start scratching.

As soon as Dingo scratched, the crawling and biting stopped. He lay back down and started to doze off again.

Then the crawling and biting started again. Dingo sat up and scratched.

Shellie watched Dingo from her counter perch. His restlessness made her a little agitated, but also very curious. She noticed that Dingo wasn't his usual self. He rarely had any trouble falling asleep. Normally, he merely had to lie down, stretch his head out in front of him on his blanket, take a look at himself in the mirror, close his eyes, and he was immediately asleep.

Shellie's curiosity finally got the better of her. When Dingo began another spell of scratching, she hopped down from the counter and walked slowly toward him. She didn't want to disturb him any more than he already was. Even though she had come to trust Dingo, she never let herself forget that he was a dog and she was a chicken. She understood that he had teeth and she didn't.

Dingo stopped scratching and stretched out again. He let out a deep breath like he always did right before he fell asleep. Shellie crept nearer and peered at him. Then she saw his back twitch a little. She looked at the spot that had twitched.

She saw a small black creature crawl out of his fur. Shellie had never seen such a creature before, but she instinctively knew what to do. She opened her beak and in one fast snap, snatched the tiny creature and swallowed it. Shellie had just eaten her first flea.

When Shellie's sharp beak struck Dingo's back, he gave a slight jump and looked up. When he saw that it was only Shellie, he closed his eyes again. He was simply too tired to do anything else. He figured Shellie would go away soon.

Shellie stayed where she was. She had to admit that one flea wasn't very filling, but it had certainly tasted good, with almost the texture and feel of a sesame seed, if not exactly the same Chinese-food flavor. And it had been fun to catch.

She watched Dingo. This time, his back leg twitched. Shellie looked closely. She could see another flea crawling.

She got as close as she could and quickly took another peck. She could feel the flea on her tongue and swallowed him. Unlike the juicy and creamy worms from the worm bed, the flea was firm and dry. The only difference was the tickling sensations its crawling legs caused on her tongue.

Dingo opened his eyes again. He gave Shellie another tired look. He wasn't sure why she was pecking him, but he had to admit that it seemed to make the itching stop. He put his head back down, closed his eyes, and dozed off.

Shellie watched for another twitch. This time it was on Dingo's right ear.

She spotted the flea and nabbed him. Dingo didn't even open his eyes this time. Instead, he wagged his tail once and let out a deep breath.

During the next half hour, Shellie caught at least 90 fleas. Then Dingo's fur finally stopped twitching. He fell into a deep sleep.

Shellie walked over to her water bowl. She drank several mouthfuls. Fleas, she realized, weren't very filling even in large quantities, but they certainly made her thirsty. She hopped back up on her counter perch and started drifting off to sleep herself.

In the living room, she heard Paula let out a joyful, "Go! Go! Go!"

Her favorite team had just hit a home run.