My friend recently wrote on her blog about her sweet little sprite of a dog stealing hot dogs during class. Read Team Small dogs blog
here.
Her blog made me think about my own mismanagement of my dogs. What comes to the forefront is my dog Chester. Chester was my best friend for a short 7 years. In that time, the amount of food that he was able to steal and consume baffled my mind. What really was shocking was how little I knew about controlling the environment to prevent these behaviors, and how much he knew about manipulating me and getting what he wanted.
One October, there was about 20 people over for a birthday party for my husband. The table was full and somehow the B-day cake was put near an edge. During the hour or so that we all were selecting items from the table, eating, and standing around talking, NO one noticed that Chester was slowly eating the birthday cake.
During Christmas, my sister (who is a fabulous baker) gave everyone plates of cookies. My mother-in-law was staying with us and she had taken her plate to her bedroom. I asked, "did you close your door?" She said, "of course." Not too much time later, here comes Chester running down the hall and slamming on the breaks as he enters the family room area. He realized he had made a grave error in judgement. In his mouth, still wrapped in saran wrap, was the entire plate of cookies. He dropped the plate, turned and ran back down the hall knowing I'd be running after him! I believe this was early in his food stealing career and and he had not developed the stealth and cunning that soon became his trademark.
Then there was the times we would come home from somewhere and Chester would be sitting looking uncomfortable and the remnants of illegally obtained goods would clearly be in evidence. Multiple trips to the emergency in the wee hours of the morning were the norm during Chester's life.
Chester is no longer with us, and either I've gotten way better at controlling the environment, or Chester simply was a master of the craft of food stealing. Either way, life isn't as interesting without my buddy in it.
That does not say that Fin, Tazz, Maddie, and the Rocks do not do their fair share, I'm just saying, I don't know the emergency room crew by first names any more. No more when I rush into the vet office do they say, "You again? Come on back, we have the charcoal ready for you."
2 comments:
That's a real nice cartoon. That you had expossed!
My old Jake was a pretty good boy when I first had him, but in his last few years he got to be quite the stealth food demon. Like you, several trips to the emergency room. And I think he was part sheltie, too.
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