In my old life, I used to hunt things. When we're out on our walks I point for Mom, the interesting stuff that she might want to shoot; but she never does. (I'm kind of glad, because I don't like sudden loud noises.) I don't bark at little things but I love to watch them move, and if I see a squirrel in a tree I put my front paws up on the tree and watch intently until it disappears.
I don't mind not hunting any more but I still like to do it sometimes, and I've found something I can catch all the time and it doesn't bother either me or Mom: butterflies. I love chasing butterflies! And they like me too, because they're always fluttering around me. I don't hunt every one I see because I like them. They're pretty.
When I'm ready to hunt, though, I'll point, and then I'll chase it. I get so excited I almost bounce when I run! And then when I catch it I put my nose to its back and push it to the ground. I push it very gently because even though I'm hunting it, I don't want to kill it or anything. And then, once it's fluttering between the grass and my nose, I'm done and I run off again, usually to stare at the ducks in the pond. I love being good at hunting! And hunting butterflies is way more fun than the kind I used to do.
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