Thursday, February 27, 2014

The Mouse Whisperer

The Mouse Whisperer
Tuning In
After the Pounce, Dig
The Winged Mouse Whisperer
Come Out, Come Out
Time to Go Home
With head cocked and floppy ears perked, the Mouse Whisperer of Elmira Pond squats in the snow as still as Blue Heron. Not even a single toenail twitches. Suddenly, she launches her 60-pound body into the air, straight up, and pounces hard on the crunchy shelf of snow to break all the way through to the mass of dry grass beneath.

Bobo is hunting mice.

German Short-haired Pointers (GSPs) are German-engineered to hunt. Yet they were the common man's dog, and often they hunted where the common man was not allowed to go, bringing back rabbits for dinner. GSPs are stealthy, intelligent and sleek. Their long square snouts flare to catch the slightest scent and their keen ears can hear the quiet steps of mice tunneling under snow.

Bobo has the patience of a hunter. Unlike her brother Grendel who is a carefree runner, she is content to hang out in the horse pastures that surround Elmira Pond. Ever so silently she whispers to mice, coaxing them into movement, waiting...waiting...until the precise moment to pounce. And she will wait, statue-still for that moment.

Today the sky is moody with steely clouds that seem to grump as they pass. Or maybe it's me who's moody. Clear up or snow is my grumpy complaint to the clouds that seem to press low over our valley. It's warm enough to melt, but nothing dramatic; the ground seems to suck water from snow like a toddler with a juice-box and straw. It leaves a crusty shell of dingy snow that lingers.

Evidently such melts trigger mice movements. The Mouse Whisperer detects the subtle change and stands guard over several mounds. After the pounce, she digs like someone who just discovered a cache of coins. In fact, I sometimes hope that she does dig up an interesting object or two. But the snow prevents me from poking around her dug holes. I'm not a great hunter; I dislike waiting and this waiting for spring always gets me itching.

Overhead a hawk circles low, as if recognizing a fellow Mouse Whisperer. He lands in a low branch in the tamarack overlooking Bobo and her snow holes. He is patient, too. Ever so slowly the low gray clouds pass by, trailing more shadows.

I whistle, and the Mouse Whisperer gallops home.

11 comments:

  1. What an interesting dog Bobo is. I had no idea dogs would hunt mice. Such a fascinating story about 'The Mouse Whisperer'. Hope Spring comes soon to your part of the world.

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    1. When we first moved to Idaho, we had a dilapidated trailer in the mountains. Not a great situation at all, but at least we had arrived out west and had a few months to find someplace decent before winter hit. I was in the middle of a writing project and had my desk set up among all our boxes that we were only going to have to move again. Not paying attention to the dogs as I wrote, Bobo kept nudging my hand. Finally, I turned to her. There she stood at my side with only the tail of a mouse hanging out her mouth...she caught it inside the trailer! Yes, she hunts mice! Thankfully we found a place where they live outside!

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  2. For as distressed as the hawk probably was that you called his fellow hunter home, I was actually relieved with the end of todays hunt. I bet you know why too :)

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    1. You are safe! Be careful around those hawks; they whisper ever so quietly. :-)

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  3. I am partial to Mouse Whisperers. You've gotta love those GSPs in their many iterations. Fresh snow here this morning... a few new inches. We needed it. I was noticing just yesterday the cracks in the soil. I think it was some really big toddlers drinking from the juice box of my yard. Love that imagery.

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    1. Oh, no you have giant toddlers! Here's hoping to a rainy spring for the west so the soil toddlers can get pudgy on juice boxes and straws!

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  4. I love learning about different dog breeds and what they do. Thank you Charli!

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    1. Dog breeds are like cultures, and I find them full of fascinations, too!

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  5. This was a good read with great pictures! Were any mice harmed? Or did the mouse whisperers go home empty-handed?

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    1. No mice harmed on this day! Bobo got kibble for dinner, but I can't say what our winged friend had to eat.

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  6. Bobo looks like he was having a grand ole time!

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