Belly's reputation at the dog park: completely shot

Everyone knows that Annabelle is a fierce little hunter. She killed three groundhogs in her younger days AND she has new camo boots to help her sneak up on the squirrels at the dog park. Of course, the weather has been such that she hasn't had a chance to sport her new kicks, but that's another story for another time. At the park, whenever Belly is getting a little too clingy or immobile, Denise will yell, "Belly! Squirrel!" and Belly will turn around and run in the exact opposite direction that Denise is pointing in. Belly's pointer heritage is a certainty; we've all watched her stalk squirrels for what seems like an eternity before sprinting to try to catch them. But alas, she's never gotten one at the park.

Yesterday Belly and I got to the park at our usual time of 10:30 and as soon as we were in the gate, I heard Denise yell "Squirrel!" I just assumed it was because Belly had arrived. Turns out it was because Sarah's dog, Lucky (who Sarah's had for only 2 1/2 months or so--her first dog) has a very fat, very dead squirrel in his mouth and is running to the gate to show us all his kill. I scream (shocking, I know). Sarah's trying to catch Lucky, but at the same time she doesn't really want to catch him because she's so grossed out. Sarah: I'm a vegetarian! As though we're planning to eat the squirrel for brunch.

I go over toward the killa beast and grab his collar, but that's about it. I'm not about to get near that dead thing. Sarah picks up--of all things--a board that someone has placed near the very muddy entrance. Later Sarah says that her plan was to hit the squirrel with it, not her boy. Uh. Yeah. That'll work.

Sarah: What the fuck do I do?

Amy: We need a man (hooray for sexism).

A couple guys who we don't know come over because they hear our distressed voices shrieking. By this point, miraculously, Lucky has dropped the squirrel. The guy, who's thankfully wearing gloves, picks up the squirrel and drops it into the trash can just outside the gate.

Anonymous man: It was surprisingly pliable. Not dead long.

The group of us walk back to the middle of the park and begin processing what just happened. Lucky is given a new middle name: Killa. After we've been talking for a few minutes, I realize I don't know where my dog is.

Me: Where's the stinkbomb?

Denise: She's off behind the barn sulking.

Update: Be sure to read Sarah's account of the blessed event here. I think she thinks I'm loud or something. Huh.