The dogs were romping around the porch when I left for town on Wednesday. They had missed me on Tuesday, when I emerged from my 8-day hibernation, because they were over at the BARn with Farmer H, who was unloading or loading something from or into the old pickup truck bed he had made into a trailer. I hate that thing! Nothing is more hillbilly than a truck-bed trailer!
At the time, I had waved and waved at Farmer H. I saw him turn his head towards the road, and look right at me. Yet no wave was returned. I was so exhausted from trying to get that return wave that I almost had to pull over under the thorn tree and root around in T-Hoe's back seat for some surprise oxygen tanks.
Anyhoo... on Wednesday, I tossed each dog half a Sister Schubert's roll, and eased my way down the porch steps. Scarlett was busy choking on hers, doing that weird reverse-sneezing thing, while Jack had finished, and was squirming his way into a petting. He puts his rough digging paws on my hand on the rail, and tries to get to my face.
I put my left arm around Jack, who is svelte and lithe, now that Scarlett eats her food and half of his. I let him snuggle his nose up under my hair. Jack grunts with pleasure, enjoying our closeness like when he was a pup, crawling around the back of my neck like a little weasel. As I told him that I needed to get going, and pulled back my head, Jack took a swipe at my face. His tongue missed my mouth, thankfully, but
HIS COLD WET NOSE LEFT A GOOEY TRAIL ON MY CHIN!
That was not pleasant. The 37-degree air hit it, making it very cold. I didn't want dog snot on my hands. Nor on my jacket. So I had to wear that goo to T-Hoe, where I had Puffs waiting.
When I came home, both dogs were waiting, though Copper Jack was at his own house for once. Inside, I got a whole Sister Schubert's roll for each dog. Tossed Scarlett the bigger one, first, so she'd be preoccupied when I dropped Jack's.
I was tearing apart that scrap of chicken tender that Farmer H had left for the dogs (not me), when I noticed Scarlett coming back across the threshold. Then I heard a THUNK. I didn't know what that was all about. I hadn't knocked anything off the counter. I tossed each dog a share of chicken, and turned to look at the floor.
That dang Scarlett had brought her Sister Schubert's roll back inside, and left it on the kitchen floor! She's not very bright sometimes. I picked up the roll, and tossed it outside for her, and JACK grabbed it! So I had to get another one for Scarlett, who then ate it like she had been yearning for one these 8 days.
She's an odd one, that Scarlett. Though not as slimy as Jack.
3 comments:
A little dog snot never hurt anyone! I wonder sometimes if I have a hairball in my belly growing substancially after reading about a man who worked with furs and made coats and mufflers. The doctors were amazed at the size of what they thought was a tumor. They removed it to discover it was a giant hairball. He had a habit of putting pins in his mouth, transferring tiny hairs from the fur.
It might be very Hillbilly, but it's functional and creative too.
I'm very glad I had long since finished eating breakfast when I read about Jack's nose drool. YUK!
Kathy,
OH MY GOSH! I am still not over the Free Hairball Hot Tub that Farmer H got from his former boss's dad's house! The thought of one INSIDE me is horrifying.
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River,
Jack regrets that his nasal secretion emissions cannot time themselves to comply with your meal schedule!
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