We've found a new, unexpected ally in our constant war against the local Moles. Trapping has been a slow, but sometimes effective way to keep them from their goal, which is undermining the whole backyard until it becomes a miniature Carlsbad Caverns. Lately the mounds have been reappearing and it's too darn rainy and muddy to set a trap.
This morning looking out through the kitchen window, Carol noticed Taz acting strangely. He was attacking, pouncing, grabbing, shaking and throwing something, acting like a wild Fox or a Coyote.
She went out to see what was going on and was amazed to see that he had killed a Mole! It wasn't a very big one, but Taz isn't very big, either. The rain had probably flooded it out of its burrow. Taz was still growling and shaking it when I went out to take his picture.
I guess this makes up for the other night when the Coyotes were yapping and howling; he got so scared he wouldn't even go outside alone. Then he had bad dreams that made him shake and quiver like he was on a vibrating bed.
Maybe the odd combination of breeds in his parentage make him a Mole Hound!
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