Just when you think it's economically feasible to build an egg shack restaurant on the side of your proposed handbasket factory, what with the plethora of eggs you collect each evening on the upswing from one per day to ten...reality slimes the hand that gathers the raw material.
The Pony came back to the Mansion after collecting eggs in his red and green Easter basket. "Do you know why one of the eggs is wet?"
Thinking this was possibly a riddle, I replied, "No. Why IS one of the eggs wet?"
"I was gathering them and turned to pick one up. When I reached back to get the one I already saw, Juno was licking it and pushing it around on the grass. I grabbed it before she could pick it up in her mouth. It has her saliva on it."
Shh...Farmer H does not need to know. Ann is the dog that eats the eggs. The dog that carried one around in her mouth for two days. Not my sweet Juno. She simply has naturally silky fur.
She didn't know what she was doing.
4 comments:
Juno was practicing her dribbling (soccer) skills. She wasn't planning on gobbling up that egg.
Not sweet Juno.
Sioux,
I trust you will be available as a character witness if needed. Juno is depending on you. Which does not mean that you need to steal her out of our yard.
She was merely trying to shift blame from Ann. She was not going to eat the egg, it was an act of sisterly love. She had heard rumors of DNA testing.
Kathy,
Yes. My sweet Juno is so selfless. And egg-loving.
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