These holidays have held so much joy for us. Corey comes to visit. We went birding on New Year's Day and found all three falcon species (kestrel, merlin and peregrine!)
Bolt upright, regal
Ohio River falcon
dresses up a bridge
To know where she is
Make the pilgrimage on foot
So much like worship
She, our own Horus
iPhonescoped photo by Bill Thompson III
We also have been playing a little music (more on that later).
Corey and Phoebe toast our sighting of the St. Mary's Peregrine in a hobo's swing under the bridge,with some muddy beer bottles.
And those chirren bake. Oh God, do they bake. This photo is from January 2014, but they did the same dang thing yesterday. Cranberry orange cream scones. There really is nothing better under the sun, and I'm helpless around them. Just get them out of my sight, please, because if I have to look at them I'll have to eat them. And I did, 2 of them. And now I have to go run again. A lot.
Chet Baker has this thing where he begs for boxes. If he sees someone finishing up a box of cereal or Cheezits, he MUST have the box. He will rip it to smithereens, and then I will pick up the smithereens.
These are things that never change.
So Phoebe and Corey were finishing up four quarters of butter, and he was begging for a butter box, leaping up to grab it. She jokingly asked him if he wanted butter and waved a stick at him. And he grabbed that stick of butter out of Phoebe's hand and took off!
When he realized how delicious was his treat, he began to drool, and he took off to find a place where he could enjoy it, and blow out his pancreas at the same time. (Large amounts of fat are really bad for dogs).
Well, that was not going to happen. We all gave chase, laughing as we went. This set off a game of Keepaway, which as we all know is the Boston Terrier's forte.
Chet's cave is beneath the kitchen table, so after a few turns around the living room, he repaired to his cave.
He was a bit surrounded: Phoebe behind him, and Corey in front, taking these photos, and me to the side, admonishing him not to eat that butter!
Uh-oh. Now Mether is going to crawl under the table. I feel a spitbubble forming at the corner of my jowl.
I am unrepentant. I want to eat this butter. I want to eat all of it.
And given half a chance, I would. But Mether is using her growly voice now. She is escalating.
I told that bad little dog to sit and stay and I got the butter back from him and I told him he was very naughty. With kisses afterward.
He was not sorry, not one bit. And now...NOW...when we take butter out of the refrigerator, he roos at us. As if we're going to just spontaneously grant him a whole stickabutter for hisself.
Dream on, bad little black dog. Dream on.
Last two photos by Phoebe Thompson. The rest by Corey Husic. Badness by Chet Baker.
That dog is SO BAD.
17 comments:
Hey Chet, can you spell C-H-O-L-E-S-T-E-R-O-L?
LOL! In the last photo, Chet has the exact same look on his face that Homer Simpson gets about doughnuts. Mmmmmmm... doughnuts.......
To be fair, Phoebe waved it at him. Just sayin'.
You know them dogs is hyper!
oh, Chet! the allure of forbidden fruit!
Oh Chet, you do NOT want pancreatitis; no, no, no. We love you too much!
Mether, it is not butter, it is a yellow chew toy.
Chet, you had the butter now you got none. Easy come and heck of a time letting go. Glad you did not eat it all Chet, I once had a chow dog that somehow ate my butter, he drank tons of water afterwards and constantly had to go in and out all night to relieve himself.Love your expression Chet,,,now mether will have to get you a yellow chew toy and occasion spread a dap of butter on it!
What became of the stickabutter that Chet Baker clamped his jaws on and drooled all over?
Quiltcat: We scraped off the drooly bits and incorporated it into cranberry-orangepeel cream scones! Which are all history!
Rigby here must have been secretly using the computer to tell Chet Baker how delicious butter is. This past December, we finally broke Rigby's string of "Eating things he shouldn't, human food edition." Finally one of three years without a disaster.
Last year he ate a pound of butter I had on the counter softening for cookies. The vet advised inducing vomiting. It was gross and sad for everyone. My carpet will never be the same.
The year before that he ate 5 bars of chocolate and got to spend the night at the emergency vet. Fortunately he had thrown most of it up on the carpet (again poor carpet) which I discovered later.
Chet Baker, do not take advice from Rigby. He says that butter is delicious (seriously, a pound? Nasty.) but he should not be listened to.
But, but, it iz marked wif my teef marks alreddy!
Ha! At least you can save half of it.
This is great! very enjoyable!
Chet brings back memories! We had a St. Bernard mix, Buster who took the liberty of stealing a stick of butter off the table. It was gone in a flash. Luckily, he proved hardy and was ok.
Ha ha ha, a personality so much like my little dog daisy that I lost recently!
Awwww, poor deprived Chetty. But remind him it's for his own good. My female black lab once ate a stick of butter and spent all night and day vomiting, and had to spend the night at doggie hospital with an IV to get her tummy settled. She was terribly sick. We don't want that for The Bacon.
so glad the poodle does not know what butter is... none in the house! He did dig half a slice of pizza out of a snow bank yesterday, but it is 11F and he is skinny, so I imagine he will survive. There was no pizza visible to the human eye, so he just nosed it out. The vet has said pancreatitis to me in a discussion about BURGERS, so I am always concerned. No food is safe from dogs.
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