Thursday, April 26, 2007
Life on the Back Porch
Some days, Tuck eats most of his dog food. Some days, he doesn’t. There have been occasions when I’ve wondered whether he has help - if the squirrels are at it as well, and they don’t come as much when they have the better peanuts from our neighbor.
Well, I’m wrong. It’s not the squirrels.
This morning, when I was drinking my coffee and looking outdoors, I see a flash of blue. Jay is hopping along, hopping along. Quite nonchalantly, because he has no agenda and not a care in the world, he hops along the deck. And absolutely casually, just to see if there is a world out there, he looks around to check, yes, there is sun, no, it’s not raining yet today. Not, of course, checking to see whether anyone is watching him, just observing the wonderful day. And then, he hops onto the rim of the dish of dog food.
You’re waiting for me to say he flips it over onto himself, aren’t you?
Well, I’ve bought a very good kind of dog food. It is really smelly! I’m sure that Jay could smell it across the yard. It also has different size pieces. Some are long and skinny, like pretzels. Some are big and round, like cherries. And some look like miniature dog biscuits. Jay stands there, on the rim of the dog dish, evaluating his options. He is no dumber than any of us - he chooses the biggest piece there.
Now, not at all nonchalantly, with a - you didn’t see me, I’m outta here - attitude, Jay takes one hop, and flies off.
Not for nothing does Bob call jays “camp robbers”. Anyone who would stoop low enough to steal a blind dog’s food deserves an epithet!
But he’s so cool. I’ll probably get him shades instead.
Some days, Tuck eats most of his dog food. Some days, he doesn’t. There have been occasions when I’ve wondered whether he has help - if the squirrels are at it as well, and they don’t come as much when they have the better peanuts from our neighbor.
Well, I’m wrong. It’s not the squirrels.
This morning, when I was drinking my coffee and looking outdoors, I see a flash of blue. Jay is hopping along, hopping along. Quite nonchalantly, because he has no agenda and not a care in the world, he hops along the deck. And absolutely casually, just to see if there is a world out there, he looks around to check, yes, there is sun, no, it’s not raining yet today. Not, of course, checking to see whether anyone is watching him, just observing the wonderful day. And then, he hops onto the rim of the dish of dog food.
You’re waiting for me to say he flips it over onto himself, aren’t you?
Well, I’ve bought a very good kind of dog food. It is really smelly! I’m sure that Jay could smell it across the yard. It also has different size pieces. Some are long and skinny, like pretzels. Some are big and round, like cherries. And some look like miniature dog biscuits. Jay stands there, on the rim of the dog dish, evaluating his options. He is no dumber than any of us - he chooses the biggest piece there.
Now, not at all nonchalantly, with a - you didn’t see me, I’m outta here - attitude, Jay takes one hop, and flies off.
Not for nothing does Bob call jays “camp robbers”. Anyone who would stoop low enough to steal a blind dog’s food deserves an epithet!
But he’s so cool. I’ll probably get him shades instead.
