Michelle slept most of today, but near the end of the day we drove up to Augusta State to let Fitz run around off-leash.
He knows where he is when we pull up, and doesn't waste time trotting off ahead to find signs of squirrel.
Every once in awhile he sees or hears one and rushes off after it. There are a lot of trees and we don't worry about him actually catching one. If I happen to have him on the leash and see one ahead, I wait for it to get near a tree before I let him go.
He loves it all the same, and he doesn't know I'm handicapping him.
Today we saw one clinging to a wall. As we approached it ran up the wall and starting moving horizontally. It had nowhere to go and Fitz slipped away from me. The poor squirrel started hissing and crying and I grabbed Fitz and we moved away.
The squirrel cautiously made its way to the base of the wall and bolted for the nearest tree. We let Fitz chase it once it was a few feet from the tree. He was so drunk with bloodlust that he ran through some low shrubbery and hit his head against the wall as he sniffed around the base of the tree.
There's an open area in the center of campus punctuated by a dozen old trees. High in the canopy they watch and listen as the little black death darts from tree to tree below.
Once we got home Fitz tore into his new sheep toy and took its eye off, ripped its belly open, and tore a good deal of stuffing out.