Cutely spastic and gangly beyond all reason but a killer nonetheless.
Fresh crab blood is coursing through his veins and a keener look has come to his eye, a newly bolder swagger to his stride.
In the past Cutter has always sprinted up the beach pausing only to plunge his nose into each and every sand crab hole snuffling deeply his disappointment at not catching one.
We laughed and thought it funny until last week. It’s all funny until somebody gets hurt.
Miss Carol had to go into the hospital on Saturday to do some programming so we were walking the beach earlier than usual and as usual Tug was loping along waiting for his next biscuit and Cutter was crab hole sniffing.
Same old, same old, until we saw him corner a crab away from the security of it’s hole, darting in and out snapping at it. The crab had it’s claws out, scurrying back and forth, and I was just waiting for it to lock onto Cutters face, thinking that would be the end of this nonsense when all of the sudden Cutter juked and jived and came up with the crab in his mouth and flung it, trotting away.
Miss Carol was worried that maybe the crab had been hurt so I trotted up just in time to see it’s little legs feebly kicking their last. Sorry bud.
Miss Carol was not happy.
Then, on the way back up the beach to home, Cutter cornered another bigger crab and without wasting any time at all snapped it in half and spit it out before we or it could do anything and moved on seemingly uncaringly.
That’s my boy.
A cold blooded remorseless killer with crab breath.