We’re getting to think there is a hunting breed somewhere in Swingle’s ancestry. Not only has she killed most of the Green finch population in the garden over the summer, and a mole and mice, she’s now extending her range.
Ducks have arrived and there’s one stretch where they rest on the river. The other day she jumped in to them, remembering from when they were there in the spring. They just looked and sailed away, only taking off when she lurched further in the water. At least she stopped when she found she wasn’t flying too!
Over at Edith’s, she ran into the next field and chased the young cows, of course, egged on by Sina, resulting in a smacked puppy tied up on a rope. The next time, I watched her like a hawk, but just as I thought she was tired, the two snuck off to the sheep. Who ran. Fortunately, she heard me and returned. Phew.
Then she tried falconry, seeing a hawk coming to land. But it didn’t move as she got close, no doubt thinking it was camouflaged. Swingle also remembered she can’t fly and so didn’t bother!
It’s a puppy thing, but I’ll really have to keep an eye on her!