A story in my local
Montana paper, the Missoulian, described the growing problem of
family pets harassing wildlife and livestock. It seems that the
expansion of urban life into the wild is taking its toll on deer,
elk, cattle and all kinds of burrowing creatures. The story really
hit home as my dog Hank, aka “Where the heck did the dog run off to
now?” is breaking us in.
Hank is named after the “Hank
the Cow Dog” children’s book series. My wife thought the stories
were cute, and so was Hank, though our Hank lives not on a ranch
but on the sagebrush-covered bluffs that rise to the east of
Dillon, Mont. We’re on the fringe of the great outdoors, with
plenty of wildlife, including fox, deer and a variety of rabbits.
Hank’s cuteness vanished sometime this winter as the
morning winds turned chilly, and he turned a year and a half old
and became an out-of-control teenager, hell-bent on taking
advantage of his misguided husky and border collie pedigree. The
husky wanted to run and the border collie lived to chase. Throw in
a dashing herd of antelope, and no matter what commands I screamed,
threats I made, or sailor’s language I used, Hank was gone.
I know you’re thinking that his lack of discipline was an
owner problem. Well, I agree. So I’ve been training Hank, and he’s
slowly turning into a well-behaved dog. Regardless of his steadily
improving manners, I was still concerned about the neighbors’
canines, and decided to investigate if there were any
out-of-control mongrels housed near me.
Hank knew the
territory, so I employed his well-honed sleuthing skills to uncover
any roving hounds. Reaching the driveway’s end, Hank quickly
focused his tracking nose on checking every carbon-based plant life
form to see if it had been “marked.” This, as you might
imagine, takes a lot of time, but we were determined to uncover
potential marauders.
First stop was Penny, a lovable
border collie with a hair-trigger bladder who lives across the
road. You touch her — she pees. If Hank’s missing, he’s over at
her house stealing something — bones, rawhide chews and a really
nice socket set that I keep meaning to return.
Down the
road there’s Pinky, an ADHD beagle mix that likes romping with Hank
in her fenced yard. Across the road, the area’s senior citizens Gus
and Woodrow will love you to death if they find the energy to
waddle up and greet you. Heading down the hill, Pepper and her
cohorts are all Hank’s friends and well-cared-for homebodies. Then
there’s Cody, acting like a college student on spring break. He’s a
handful, but his owners seem to have mastered the art of control.
Hank, feeling a keen sense of duty and possibly the scent
of chuker quail, picks up the pace as I feebly attempt to keep up.
Hank is desperately trying to figure out if “heel” and “get your
butt over here” are the same command. Then, through a miracle of
modern dog training, he’s actually running alongside me. I stumble
along as my legs beg for rest, lung sensors detect a low oxygen
level and brain defers action until my heart checks in. Hank,
sensing my dilemma, cocks his head and licks my hand as if to say,
“If you die, can I go back to chasing rabbits?” I love that dog.
Our little subdivision closely represents the
nation’s 80 million U.S. dog owners, as almost every house
here has at least one shaggy critter. Hank was determined to
interrogate them all — even the mutt called Caesar that had a
falling out with Hank a while back. Completing the rounds, I wipe
my sweaty face as Hank confides there aren’t any dogs in his
territory posing a threat to wildlife or livestock. They’re just
supervised, well cared for canines whose owners are friendly,
responsible adults — paying taxes and flossing regularly.
Pet owners should be held accountable for their pet’s
behavior, and it shouldn’t fall to game wardens or ranchers, who
are often saddled with having to shoot offending animals. I asked
Hank what he thought about the irresponsible folks who let their
pets roam the rural countryside. He started to lift his leg. I
said, “Easy boy, let’s be sensible here. Maybe a friendly reminder
would be a good start: Keep your dogs at home.”
Joe Barnhart is a contributor to Writers on the Range, a
service of High Country News (hcn.org). He
writes in Dillon, Montana.
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