"Where are the zucchini?" asked Gregg.
"On the kitchen counter." I replied.
There was a long pause.
"No, they're not." he said.
I sighed and got out of my chair to point out the obvious. I was thinking that, as usual, he couldn't see what was right in front of his nose.
But the zucchini weren't on the counter. Maybe, I thought, I'd left them in the fridge. Nope, not there. Maybe I'd accidentally put them in a cabinet. We checked all cabinets. Nothing. I was getting a bit desperate. I wondered if I'd thrown them in the dryer or left them in the bedroom. I was wandering around the house looking for zucchini but found no zucchini. No zucchini remnants. No skin, no stem. Nothing.
Neither one of us thought that the zucchini could have been a victim of counter-surfing. Our Ray would never have let an entire raw zucchini ever touch his lips never mind steal two of them. But this girl dog...hmmm. And although we wondered, we decided to give Cully the benefit of the doubt and chalk the zucchini up to covid brain.
Three days later an avocado disappeared off the counter. The pit, however, was found in the backyard being joyfully played with by a certain vegetable-loving hound.
Oh, that's funny! Well, better than the huge pile of chopped chocolate that Josey scarfed one time (cue the recurring dose of hydrogen peroxide). And once she stole a chicken carcass, and I never found even one little bit of it anywhere in the house or yard :)ReplyDelete
Gosh, I sure miss that dog :( There will never be another like her...Delete
Hah! Who'd have thought :)ReplyDelete
My great-uncle, a reclusive man and prolific gardener, was given a pit-bull dog by a well-meaning relative. Turns out that dog was the best thing to happen to him. Great-Uncle got the dog hooked on vegetables of all kinds. We all thought it was rather amazing, as the wisdom of the time was to feed your dog a can of "meat & gravy" every day, period. This dog lived a long and happy life. Maybe longer because of the vegetables?