El Altar de la Muerte – A dog’s artistic vision

Living with two Jack Russell Terriers ain’t for the squeamish. Peyote did not get his nickname “The Alligator” out of thin air. He earned it. Sadly so. Dead birds. Dead opossums. Dead rats. Dead cats. Dead “you name it”, it has been brought into my house with pride and enthusiasm to thank me for the deliciousness of all the canned food.

Peyote The Alligator

The Alligator exhibiting his usual reptilian smugness

Peyote’s killer instinct apply to non-living things as well. Sadly so. Carpeting. Window ledges. My talking PeeWee Herman doll, my Pinocchio with retractable nose. All is fair in love and war.

He obsessed non-stop over a minuscule stuffed lamb doll my mom had sent me for Easter along with life-sustaining Belgian chocolate. If that doll laid on a high table, Peyote would sit and bark and whimper at it it for hours. He drove me NUTS.

One early morning, as I walked into the living room, I noticed a black mass on one of my leather seats. I turned on the light. There was a dead black bird stuffed head first in the corner of the seat. Nice!

Joyful Morning Discovery

Then something got my attention on the adjoining seat. Something white. Stuffed in the corner.

The Whole Picture

There it was. The Easter Lamb. Jammed head first in the corner a la black bird.

An artistic vision by The Alligator. Mirror images of death. The virginal lamb and the dark raven. Good and evil. Passing on the Cantoni furniture. Talk about a statement…

That previous week, I had switched to “the more expensive than that you die” Cesar cans and I guess he felt compelled to show more appreciation than usual. We have since reversed to the cheap cans. For obvious reasons.

8 responses to “El Altar de la Muerte – A dog’s artistic vision

  1. Nice reptilian looks (and behavior)! I wonder who taught him…

  2. What are you implying exactly?
    You are such a rat!

  3. you take completely beautiful pictures.

    thanks for visiting my site, I’m glad to have seen yours, great photos.

    my cat caught a mouse that ran through the apartment, I had a hell of a time wrestling the thing from him.

    good cat

  4. Oh, my. It’s the head first part that got me. Laughed until the very end when I then saw the title of your previous post and smile went away.

    But I am going to think about burying my conquests head first from now on.

  5. whatigotsofar

    I’ve had cats, not dogs. And cats show their hunting talents in different ways. They drag their kill home and proudly stand above it as though I should be proud of that the cat caught a bird, or a rabbit, or a mouse, or a chipmunk, or whatever the neighbourhoods “catch of the day” is. I guess dogs bury their kill. And when no patch of land can be found, they stuff it underneath a sofa pillow.

  6. Pat, you may now bury your conquests head first as long as it is not on my damn furniture. The subsequent dislodging of above-referenced bird was a tad… How can I explain… Er, crunchy. Remind me to tell you about the 3 am large possum on the couch.

    WIGSF, I think Bob needs a cat… on the off-chance it brings him a bird. Why am I obsessing over Bob?

  7. I was about to ask you that question.

  8. I don’t know. I should stop. I’m stopping.

    Please keep me appraised of further development… Should there be any.

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