03/04/2012 10:41 am ET

Laura Pritchett Does Not Love Her Dog

There's a dead fawn outside my front door. The sweet young body is completely covered in tall grass, which means this is a mountain lion kill, which means that the mountain lion responsible is going to come back for the next few mornings and nights to finish eating. I must admit that, although I'm reflexively sorry about the fawn, I'm exceedingly impressed: The lion has done a fabulous job of piling grass all over the creature.

I would never have noticed it, except that my dog was sniffing and whining and making an urgent noise that sounds exactly like something Chewbacca would say.

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