Catching Dawn: Failed Again

I brought three of the Magic 8 to Bernice’s house yesterday to bait Dawn. She seemed overjoyed to see them, watching with brown anxious eyes while we set them twenty feet away from Bernice’s porch. She even let Livia Soprano, the feisty one, suckle at her swollen nipple. But the second one of us tried to get a leash around her neck, she bolted. Poor Livia. She stubbornly hung off her running mother’s nipple for a full foot before dropping to the gravel.

This is our third straight failure.

The only way we are going to catch this dog is at a distance.

Donna found a cowboy at a local ranch that said he’d help lasso her this weekend, but last night I got a call from a stranger, a kind older woman that offered advice, claiming a lasso could kill her. If anyone out there can be the devil’s advocate and offer another opinion, please write to us at thefarnival@gmail.com. The vet also prescribed another sedative, much stronger than the last, but the problem is the drug requires an antidote. If Dawn drops anywhere we can’t find her, like a drainage pipe or field, and we can’t administer the antidote, she will die.

By the way, she won’t come near any sort of human contraption, like a Havahart trap or crate, even if the pups are screaming inside while laying next to a big juicy burger. Believe me, we tried that trick in the first week. Dawn is one of the smartest, craftiest animals I’ve ever met.

Right now, we’ve decided to wait for the catch-pole that Donna ordered a few days ago. All we can do is hope she sticks around until it gets here.