Thursday 27 September 2012


I love this story. Or more to the point, I love the alternative version or subtext of this story that my writer’s brain lends to it. (Makes things a lot more interesting when you can view it from several angles, I assure you). A French hunter recently had to have his hand amputated because his dog shot it off. Yes, you read that right. The trusty best friend, the pooch he has deemed ‘adorable,’ was apparently going in for a ‘cuddle’ right as the man was in mid hunt causing him to pull the trigger and blow his own hand off. Ah the irony is so thick on this one. Okay, fine, the dog didn't actually pull the trigger, but in my version the police would definitely be pulling him in for questioning and a box of donuts.

The huntsman in question has three Blue Gascony Basset Hounds, and was out hunting with three of them when the youngest – clearly the most tactile of the three – stayed behind while the other two ran ahead chasing a deer. This is when this infamous cuddle took place. Despite the serious injury, the man insists the dog is 'adorable' and still his best friend, and claims it was all his fault for not having the gun on safety. The man was hunting with the intent to kill animals, I think not having the gun on safety was the least of his offences.

Okay, so here is what I took from the story (or how I read it anyway)…this adorable dog was most likely not going in for a cuddle. This dog was either a) sick to death of freezing his balls off in the forest while he was made to watch his owner kill defenseless animals and decided to take action once and for all. The other two hounds acted as a diversion and took off to ‘chase deer.’ When in fact, I’m sure they were warning the deer that some serious sh*t was about to go down and they better run for cover. Then, the ‘adorable’ ring leader (it’s always the young cute ones in the bunch you have to be suspicious of) decided to take action and strategically ‘cuddle’ his master just as he was about to get a shot off.  Or b) hungry and smelled a peanut butter sandwich in the man's pocket....God I love Basset Hounds. I had one long ago and she used to insist on sleeping with me, bathing with me (I really had no choice, she would just dive in the bathtub), sitting on my lap when I drove. She and I were always working on our boundary issues.

One also has to appreciate the irony (unless you’re an avid hunter and then, well, that’s another lengthy discussion we can have at another time) when a hunter gets any sort of limb or appendage blown off when he is intending to do just that to Bambi (all deer to me are Bambi. It’s just the way it is). Not to mention, he’s dragging other animals along with him and making them complicit on his death march. This is also what I love about dogs, no matter where you are, or what you’re doing, they’re going to get all up in your face and show you some love. 'Hunt? What hunt, I need attention and you’re going to give me some god damn it. Oh, and sorry about the hand moron.'

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