The dog is finally getting a chance to do what she was born to do.

Last week in Asheville she chased down a runaway chicken, roundly dodging and driving the frenetic bundle of feathers back to me, and as the bird suddenly made a lateral dash for it: stopping the hen cold with a light pounce. The chicken graciously waited for me to collect her back to the safety of the coop. The dog trotted back to be leashed, definitely pleased with the fulfillment of her primal destiny.

This week, in Georgia, she found a tortoise nestled in the thick ivy covering my family’s yard. Though not interested in dissection and content to bring the curiosity to me, she was not at all satisfied that I opted to release it.