Westport, CT 6/7/11
The high pitched squeals are growing in frequency and volume and now we can clearly make them out from inside the house. We go outside and see the bushes surrounding the apple tree at the bottom of the hill rapidly moving. Heading down to investigate it, I see Lizzie pacing violently back and forth, engaged in rattlesnake-mongoose-style fight with a large, fat brown and gray woodchuck. Both attack each other with vigor, with the woodchuck planted firmly in his hole, which he uses frequently as a safety camp. Lizzie circles the chuck, moving in to take a bite every few seconds. The barking and squealing is growing louder so the neighbors must think we're killing our meal for the evening.
Despite my effort to break them up with a kitchen broom (keeping a healthy distance as I was too late to undergo rabies inoculations), the battle rages on, neither of the combatants caring about getting hit with a plastic cleaning tool. Lizzie eventually prevails, grabbing the chuck by the neck, plunging him out of his hole and cutting of his wind supply. Before we grab her, Lizzie sprints through the yard triumphantly, fresh kill in mouth, thrusting him back and forth, salivating and smiling in her victory. We bring her inside, while the disfigured vermin lays flat on our yard, waiting for one of us to come remove him with a shovel as to prevent future canine snacking.
Such began my two month adventure.
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