Beezee just loves those chickens. When I walk out to visit the chickens a couple times a day, Beezee thunders by me at the speed of light, (or at least the blur of white fur), drooling with anticipation of the hunt. As she rounds the coop and arrives at the fence, I hear the “bang, bang, bang” as one by one they drop from their roost and hit the floor to tumble out the coop door and go face the menacing fangs. Their curiosity with the dog is kind of like Red Riding Hood’s fascination with the Big Bad Wolf.
I have given up trying to teach Beezee to leave them alone because it is her greatest joy – right after lunging at animals that appear on the television screen. She has a couple favorite hens who like to face off with her and tempt her when she steps away by pecking the ground just outside the fence. There is nothing but dirt out there, so I am sure it is just a dare. Beezee stands nearby, pretending to look away but I can see by the look in her eye that she is gauging the striking distance out of her peripheral vision.
Yesterday she actually hit pay dirt. I was watching from inside the barn and when she dove for the taunting chicken I heard a panicked squawk and feathers flew. Beezee backed up and spit out the feathers stuck to her tongue with great satisfaction. No one was hurt, but I hope the chickens gained a new respect for their antagonist. I don’t want her to become a chicken killer, but they have to learn also that it is a very dangerous game.