In any event, Ray and I went shopping. When we left the store, I opened the bag of bones and gave one to Ray. He likes to carry his own purchases to the car. Ray took the bone in his jaws and carefully carried it through the parking lot to his lair in the back seat of my car.
When we got home, I gave Ray his bone again to carry into the house (he had dropped it in the back seat when he laid down for a quick nap). The guys were still working but didn't take too much longer to wrap things up. Ray left his bone in the front hall and we went into the laundry room to prepare his dinner. I fed the dog in the living room and went to talk to Al about the never ending dog door project. I heard Ray in the front hall licking something but in my subconscious, thought it was his new rawhide.
Al and I finished talking and walked into the front hall. There was Ray with the can of dog food that I had conveniently (for Ray) left on top of the washing machine. He had found the can, removed the lid (no tooth marks, clever dog), and was licking the contents out of the can. It's hard to get the food out without a fork or a spoon, but he was making good progress with just his tongue. I removed the can from his nose, replaced the lid, and said to Al, "It constantly amazes me how much trouble a blind dog can get into." But, truthfully, I'm not amazed any more.
On Thanksgiving our older cat decided to attack the turkey which was on the counter. The turkey had yet to be cooked. So my husband ended up putting her outside until it was in the oven. Tonight we were having a turkey casserole for dinner. The cook had chopped up the turkey and left it on the counter. When he came back in the kitchen, the same cat was on the counter eating the turkey and our dog (who will do anything for food) was also eating the pile of turkey off the counter. Needless to say, I am signing this post anonymous just in case any of you readers ever come for dinner.ReplyDelete
Let's see we have a few clues. You have at least two cats. You have a dog. You are married. You eat poultry (i.e. not a vegetarian). You know some of the readers of this blog. You don't live in the Arctic (the cat went outside). You celebrate Thanksgiving so you're an American. And it sounds like you don't cook, your husband does. hmmmmm.ReplyDelete