My Dog is a Murderer

My wonderful eight-month-old puppy, a Husky/Malamute mix, decided to become a murderer.

First, before I go on, I would never willingly get a Husky. They are beautiful and fun, but I worked with them in Argentina and know how difficult they are.

I have never even seen a Malamut; all I know is they are big and fluffy, which Baki is, and growing bigger daily.

They need to run a lot and require a lot of space, and they can act like wolves. Yes, they are natural killers, and he chews on everything; a 2X4 is nothing to him, and he carries them around like little sticks.

How did he become mine?

Someone at the school purchased the dog and left him, and I assumed responsibility, so now he is mine. Plus, I fell madly in love with his personality, even though he sometimes looks insane.

He is a good dog.

At this point, he was relatively well-trained. He stays in the yard and occasionally runs to the river alone but always returns. He loves to chase the cows and the birds; sometimes, he catches a mouse and eats it.

Never has he been aggressive toward a dog, human, or animal. Unless chasing the cows is aggressive, he is curious; he is a puppy.

It may be my fault for being naive and allowing him off-leash when we walk. Yet again, he always listens to me and is with me almost constantly. He loves to run, but I do not run with him, so I allow him.

Yesterday, we were on our usual walk.

He was running in the field as I was headed back toward the house, and I noticed he began to chase some chickens. He chases birds, but they can fly away.

The poor chicken could not; before I could reach him, he had the chicken in his mouth carrying it. I thought maybe he was holding it in his mouth like my sister’s dog does with her chickens and alive.

Nope, he must have killed the chicken in an instant. Luckily, the chicken was not bleeding; it was hanging limp in his mouth. He was proud and began carrying the chicken toward me.

It was awful.

I felt so bad since they were not my chickens, and now I have to discipline him for something natural to him—and a dead chicken.

So I disciplined him, hopefully sufficiently, but I have never had a dog that kills animals. This is not something I am accustomed to.

After I disciplined him, I tied him up, and the look on his face made me feel horrible. When I got back home, I was informed that the farmers around here would kill a dog if he killed their chickens.

So naturally, I was upset.

Luckily, the owners of this chicken said it’s nature, and it happens, but others here do not feel this way, so be careful. I brought the chicken home and buried it, so I have started a pet cemetery.

Baki is on house arrest.

We walk every two hours. Luckily I am leaving this area since it would be impossible to enclose the huge finca I live on.

The next place I am moving to has a fence, so I can ensure he can not escape. From now on, he will be walking on a leash.

So he only has to be on house arrest for two weeks, hopefully less. At least I will be getting a lot more exercise than average!

XOXO

S