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Chet Buries Things

Monday, February 25, 2008

I wanted to do a post called Hiding the Salami but I didn't think it would be very ladylike, or a very accurate reflection of my incredibly dull life lately.

While I have your attention, gentle guest, another little quirk of my pet dog: He buries things. When you give him a treat he doesn't necessarily like all that much, but wants to keep, he trots around until he finds a good place to cover it up. This is much easier to do outside where there are leaves and grass and dirt. Inside, Chet's instinct to bury gets short-circuited.

He begged so hard for a slice of hard salami that I relented and gave him one. He spat it out immediately, not liking its oversized floppiness, I guess, and then thought about it and picked it up. Soon I heard the rhythmic snorfling sound of him burying a treat. And looked over to see him trying to nose a tablecloth over the salami.
Which might have been fine because Crazy Old Dog Ladies are used to finding salami under their tablecloths, actually happy to find it, because it means darling Poopsie has been up to his old tricks! but the tablecloth was about 12" away from the salami , and there was no way it was going to cover the treat. But that didn't stop Baker. Twenty or more times, he nosed the tablecloth toward the salami. It would extend, and then fall back into place. It was like watching a dragonfly try to lay its eggs on the shiny hood of a car, or a cardinal fighting its reflection in a window. Where is my sweet, intelligent doggie? What is this little instinct-driven automaton trying to accomplish here? Hello? Free will? Reason? Brain cells?
Finally, he was satisfied that he'd hidden it, and sat down to see if anyone would find the buried treasure as we bustled about in our morning routines.What salami? I do not see a piece of salami. I have buried it and no one but me, Chet Baker, knows where it is. I find it with my laser vision.

Well, I'm sorry, Chet Baker, but I do not happen to want a piece of greasy salami lying around on the kitchen floor, so I'm throwing it away.
Some Crazy Old Dog Lady you are. The next thing you will tell me is that I am not getting the 17 brothers and sisters I have been hoping for.


I can't imagine living with a dog who didn't just automatically snarf everything up, like it or not. Okay, I really can, since my Great Dane will actually ignore food. But not my golden. Oh no. It it has the hint of edibility (and it doesn't take very much to hint at being edible at all), it's gone.

On the flip side, my grandparents had a newfoundland who would ask my grandmother to hide her cookie under the armrest cover. Periodically, Ursa would come back over and ask to be shown that the cookie was still in place where it was hidden, so grandma would lift the cover to show her. Then Ursa would go back to whatever she was doing until the next urge to check happened.

Lunchtime entertainment! Yay!

Too funny, Julie. Chloe will beg for a pretzel. She nevers eats them, doesn't like them, but will not give them up. Instead, she buries them behind the sofa pillow. If we see her, she'll snatch it back and look for another place. This could go on for an hour if we allow it. There are rawhide bones buried all over the back yard... It's OK with me though cause I'm a Crazy Old Dog Lady.

Love your original title :o)

Tablecloth is better than bed spread.

pssssst, yo Julie, just a heads-up: some whippersnapper calling himself "Bill" is trying to nudge ahead of you in the NBN ratings (your Flying Monkeys won't allow it!)... I advise coming up with some real boffo posts the next couple weeks (maybe a life-size painting of an Ivory-billed Woodpecker or something) to keep him in his place... (or perhaps Chet Baker could bury Bill's computer mouse somewhere to slow him down --- all's fair in love and blogging!!).

Julie, you crazy ole dog lady, you are so funnny. Of course you have a lot to work with. ;)

Love this story--and it resonates. I was hoping you would explain this urge on the part of dogs.
I give my dog Tipper a quasi-bone (one of those you buy shrink-wrapped). She takes it, then trots somewhere to "bury" it. If she is in the garage (while I work), she tries to bury it under lumber, or whatever is lying around. And usually ends up with a scuffed up nose from her persistent efforts.
So, glad to read that another dog does this.
Tell Chet Baker that Tipper says--hey. And will gladly trade burying tips with him, in return for stale salami.

Gee, mine just use the bedspread.

Great post, Julie.

Ursa. What a grand name for a Newfoundland. Beary nice. Chet, too, checks obsessively on the things he's buried, perhaps to remind himself that they're there.
Mare, Baker doesn't like rawhide, but always buries it and is very possessive of it. It's as if he's thinking, "I might run into hard times, and it would be good to have something, no matter how dessicated or moldy, to chew on." He hates pretzels, too.
Cyberthrush, I would be delighted to be passed by BOTB on the NBN, odd as that sounds. I'm rooting for him.
KGMom, Bacon always does that with shrink-wrapped Jumbones. He loved them as a pup but now he can't wait to hide them, and never retrieves them that I've seen. One of the triggers for burying an item seems to be size: if it's too big for him to handle comfortably, he'll bury it. Those heavy Jumbones fall into that category.

I'm just glad I hadn't taken a big sip of my drink as I read that first paragraph!

Dearest Chet,

Your cyber-vet would like to remind you that no matter how delectable salami might smell, sausages and other processed meats are not good for doggies and should be on the verboten list. The fats might give you an upset tummy or even pancreatitis, and the nitrates and preservatives aren't good for anyone, not even people. You just keep on burying those "treats" and don't eat them, even if Mether insists on giving them to you.

Love and sloppy dog kisses,

Just had to let you know just the thought that you thought of the "Hiding the Salami" phrasing is well-worth the dollar a minute I am paying to use the internet here sailing in the middle of the Caribbean with no land in site - the ensuing laughter is well worth every penny! Thanks for that moment!!!

I have woke up in the night with a pain in my back. Hmmm the dog must think I am dead or something because its placing dog bones under me!

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