03.06.17, 7:31am: GET. THE. DUCK.

She, from what I could tell (no contacts, it was all a blur), was grooming herself.

This morning when I let the Dingo out to potty, a momma duck was standing on the back corner of the fence. The Dingo saw her and fixed her stare. Her body tensed; 29 pounds of solid muscle. She was ready to charge and destroy that critter.

Letting go of her collar, she took off.

Approximately a half a second and six feet later, her steel cable lead reminded her abruptly, she can’t reach that corner. She tried and tried, no luck; barking, pulling. The fences where the ends of the also steel cable run are chained rattled at her strength and desire to GET THE DUCK.

“That’s cute, dog. Keep trying.” ~ the duck

The Dingo still intensely losing her mind, the duck calmly flew away maybe a minute later.

Minutes later, I rescued the Dingo from the middle of the yard, “You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I was trying to get the duck.”

“You know you can’t get the duck, right?”

“What?”

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