Who Wants a Cookie?
I do, I want a cookie. See how cute I am. I deserve a cookie. She doesn’t give me nearly enough cookies. She’s stingy.
Yesterday we talked about a Great Dane that ate 43 socks. Yeah, I still can’t wrap my head around that one.
However, I did mention that I’m usually pretty aware of what my dogs are up to. Let’s face it, when you live with a food motivated, food obsessed Labrador Retriever like Delilah you have to be on your toes. Typically if I’m in the kitchen cooking, cleaning or washing dishes, Delilah is right there beside me, watching and waiting for her opportunity, whether it be to snatch something I’ve dropped, or to sneak into the garbage. She’s an opportunistic dog.
We’re pretty lazy in our house. Once supper is ready we grab our meals and go sit in front of the TV. We leave the dirty pots and pans sitting on the stove or in the sink while we eat. The dogs lie on mats in the living until we are done eating when we then release them.
Once Delilah has inhaled her release treat she heads into the kitchen for clean up duty. We’re pretty good about putting extra food away and making sure she can’t get at anything, but nothing is off limits to Delilah. She will stand on her back legs to ensure a pan is properly cleaned.
After the dishes have been washed and dried, I sit down to catch up on blogging or TV. Hubby typically goes into the den. Most times if I hear a noise in the kitchen I shout “Delilah!” and Hubby will say, “It’s me.” When it actually is Delilah she will come slinking into the living room licking her lips like the Labrador that ate Cleveland.
Monday night I was watching TV and I heard a horribly loud noise (like a small stoneware bar pan slamming onto a table.) I shouted to Hubby, “Is that you?”
There was no reply. I quickly got up and assessed the situation. Hubby had made big and thick M&M cookies and set them to cool on a rack in the middle of the pool table. The bar pan was hanging off the rack and Delilah was frantically chewing.
“DROP IT, DROP IT” I screamed while opening her mouth to try and remove the cookie. She kept chewing. I couldn’t feel the cookie. I stuck my hand further in and felt the cookie in the very back of her mouth. (For reference sake the welt she left on my hand was at the base of my wrist. I measured from the tip of my middle finger to the base of my wrist. It’s seven inches.) Yes, my hand (as well as that cookie) were almost down her throat before I dug it out. But it was better than a trip to the emergency vet. LOL.
It was a beautiful cookie.
This damn dog will be the death of me. I can see the tombstone, “Death by Chocolate, and not the dessert.”
Poor eyesight.
Last week Jan and I were laughing at our poor eyesight. Seems I mistook a sign for a small white dog and Jan mistook a crow for a woodchuck.
Whatevs, it happens. Then Jan left another comment saying she mistook a mailbox for a deer. This week I had two eyesight mishaps.
On one of our morning walks I looked up and thought, look at that magnificent deer statue, I’ve never noticed it before.
What an odd spot to put a statue.
Then there were two.
Ooops, it wasn’t a statue. There were actually three of them, one larger female and two smaller ones.
On an afternoon walk, we walked past a large stand of trees and out of the corner of my eye I thought, shit that’s a big turkey.
Hey, we have big turkeys around here.
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