I was smacked in the head by a cicada heading for the backyard deck floodlights one early morning last week when I was taking Frankie out to potty. I gave a bit of a shriek and swatted it to the ground.
Frankie was on that cicada like, well, like a terrier on a bug.
I let her chase it around for a while. It was probably near the end of its life anyway since it didn't seem to be able to fly well, but Frankie certainly didn't help. She isn't a gentle dog and all of the pawing and nosing disabled it further until it could only fly a foot or two. At last it lay buzzing on the ground and I figured that was enough cicada torture. It was time for Frankie to pee so we could get back inside.
As soon as I stepped towards her, she grabbed that damned cicada and took off trotting. I could hear it buzzing inside her mouth and I could see one of its wings sticking outside her muzzle. Fox terriers get this weird pooch to their face when they are trying to hide something in their mouths. It's terribly obvious what they are doing, which makes it funny. But it is summer in central Arkansas and the weather even at 5am is hot and humid. I wasn't all that amused. I just wanted to go back inside and get on with my morning.
I followed Frankie as she did the grand tour of the backyard, cicada buzzing away in her mouth. Her recall is a thousand times better than it used to be but I didn't bother. I just trailed after her, stumbling over rocks and tree roots in the dark areas in the back forty (what I call the lower end of the yard). Finally she made her way back up to the house. I grabbed her and pried her jaws open. The cicada, stunned, dropped to the ground. It was still alive but I decided Frankie was done. I picked her up and carried her up the stairs.
I gave her a treat anyway when we got back in the house. She wasn't naughty. She was just being a normal fox terrier.