Last night Jenny stole a pound of deli ham from the counter. One second it was there, the next – poof, gulp slurp. She had scarfed it down, a groovy Scooby snack.
For Jenny, food layovers are never out of bounds and certainly never out of reach. It’s hunting after the fact and more like a game of “Who will be lame enough to leave the food near the edge of the counter within the range of my snout?”
In the past, Jenny has stolen two meatloaves and a frozen chicken from the counter. She growls and clamps down her teeth when you try to pry open her mouth. So, I let the meatloaf take one for the team. I’d rather keep my fingers. I haven’t yet mastered voice to type writing.
Indoor drama cannot compare to thorny outdoor situations.
Last night, with too much slack on the lead, Jenny circled around a bush thick with thorns. Stuck and no place to go. I dove into the snow to untangle the lead. It was like trying to unravel a really long cord but with a dog at the end. She waited patiently for me to untangle the lead in the dark, knee deep in snow. I did so without strangling myself or the dog.
I fell two times. Two missteps off the path in the yard and my foot plunged two feet below snow and then I was stuck. I thought Jenny would drag me out of the hole like Lassie did for Timmy but after several minutes of waiting in the cold, I yanked my own damn foot out of the snow.
This Friday is Jenny’s eight-week check up with the orthopedist. According to the doggy rehab instructions, she won’t be playing Frisbee anytime soon. She hasn’t played Frisbee in the past. She looks away when I toss her a stick or a ball. It’s beneath her. Yet, she digs for deer poop, which is much farther beneath her. It just tastes better, like chicken according to some of your comments or just because she can.
Reffie: I think deer poop must taste like chicken. Cat poop must taste like chicken. Chicken tastes like, well, um, frog or somethi…
Snee: As for deer poop tasting like chicken. I too must change my dinner menu. Rabbit poop must taste like chicken too. That’s our dogs’ favorite….that and fox. Or perhaps, I’ve got it wrong. Fox is for rolling in.
Jayne: I don’t know why dogs eat deer poop. Nor do I understand their appetite for snacking in the cat’s litter box. Maybe for the same reason they lick their own private parts — because they can.
And there you have it. Anyone for chicken?