Tuesday, July 5, 2011

There are Chicken Bones Everywhere

We got back from Europe wondering if Bea would even remember us. It had been 10 days since we last saw her. Since her fosters were watching her, she could have easily assumed that she only lived with us temporarily. I know dogs have no memory or sense of time - just conditioning. Hopefully we conditioned her enough to know that we = treats and love, and thus we are good.

She was happy to see us, though her butt wiggle was a bit muted. She was especially happy to see Sara. I think ever since we stopped letting her on the couch, my bonding with her has been cut down, since I spend most of my day sitting on the couch writing.

She was smiling more than normal though - the goofiest we've seen her yet. Compared to her usual stoic attitude, It was almost Joker-like.

I'll get you, Batman.

Walking Bea in our neighborhood is an experience. We have to be constantly vigilant, as there are somehow chicken bones everywhere. I don't know how or why it has happened, but we've seen three piles of them in the last 24 hours. There are no barbecues near by, and no packaging either. Just the terrible choking hazard for dogs. One pile was even next to a garbage can. Because eating the chicken and dropping the bones INTO the garbage can would be way too complicated. And this isn't a drumstick. This is a very large chicken that has been reduced to the skeletal remains of a very large chicken.

A few times in my life, I have seen a condom in the street. Not in the wrapper, just a condom. There are two explanations: one, it was used as a water balloon. Two, someone was in such a hurry to have sex that they couldn't wait to cross the street. Which is amazing, since they care enough about safe sex to put a condom on, but not enough to get out of the way of traffic.

The chicken bones remind me of that, because it's so odd to just eat a half a chicken outdoors and then toss the bones down. Both actions are very caveman-like. If I ever see a condom in the road surrounded by chicken bones, I'll know someone had quite the neanderthal party.

The good news is that Bea is not food aggressive - so if she gets to a bone before we see it, we can pry it out of her mouth. We are also slowly teaching her the "leave it" command, which will come in handy in our neighborhood.

Either way, it's great to have Bea back. Even if we have to avoid the perils of living with cavemen.

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