Let the record show that by "spots," I mean his careless ways. You can never be sure what calamity is just around the corner for those who place trust in Farmer H.
Monday was a nice day, sunny with temps in the upper 50s. I had thawed out two steaks that Farmer H wanted to grill on GassyG Jr. Not for US, but for himself, to have for supper two days. He would have given me one, but I'm not big on steak. I whipped up a nice tuna salad for myself.
Anyhoo... I was inside the Mansion while Farmer H was talking to the dogs at the kitchen door, and getting his steak to take outside to the grill. I had also given him a Wild Turkey and Diet Shasta Cola in a red Solo cup, and a small bowl of Chex Mix. He'd had a not-very-satisfying lunch at the Senior Center, that being
Cheeseburger
Oven potatoes
Slaw
Bun
Brownies OR Fruit
Farmer H says the cheeseburgers are not very good, and are served on a little roll. The potatoes are always cold. Sometimes they have the slaw he doesn't like, with the clear rather than creamy dressing. No comment on the brownies. You KNOW he didn't select fruit!
Anyhoo... the steaks turned out well. Meaning done medium rare. Farmer H had three bites left, and asked me if I wanted them. I'm pretty sure he was planning to give them to the dogs, one for each, but I had complained another night that I would have eaten his scrap of chicken rather than give it to the dogs. Those three bites of steak were delicious.
Anyhoo... the next day when I went into the garage to leave for town, I saw something on the floor. It was wrappers. Three individual wrappers. Foil on the bottom, with a clear pink bubble pouch in the shape of a fake dog bone. Small. Maybe two inches long. Of course I was worried. Had something been in the garage? Scarlett comes in when I return. What if something had knocked those things off a shelf, and she had eaten them? I really hoped they weren't some kind of medicine, though it's been a while since we had our dogs to the vet. I picked up the wrappers and set them on top of A-Cad's hood, meaning to ask Farmer H about them. But I forgot.
Anyhoo... I had mentioned how Pupsie got a scolding on Thursday for being overly inquisitive about the grocery bags on the side-porch chair. And how Scarlett had been herding Pupsie out of the garage on Wednesday and Thursday, the first times that Pupsie had gone inside. I was telling Farmer H about it.
"You can definitely see the herding instinct in Scarlett. She runs at Pupsie and pushes with her nose, and turns to look back to see if Pupsie is following. Today Pupsie was not behaving. Lagging behind. Wouldn't go up the steps onto the porch because I was standing at the bottom. Scarlett grabbed Pupsie by the back of the neck. Shoved some more. Ran up the steps and looked back. She seemed almost frantic, like the other day. Like Pupsie was going to head back into the garage instead of come up on the porch for treats."
"Well. No wonder. Scarlett got closed in the garage Monday night."
"WHAT? And you didn't tell me? You did it again? How could you not know??? You were sitting on the side porch right by the door! Even when I'm getting stuff out of the car, she's jumping up at the door, hitting it with her feet, looking through the window!"
"I didn't hear nothin'. I found her in there the next morning when I got some food to put in their feeder. She'd been all over everything! She even got up on the trash can."
"The little green one that you keep the food in?"
"No. The big black one. The lid is dented in from her weight. She probably got on the little one too, to step up on the big one. She knocked a bunch of old dog treats off the shelf, and ate them. I found the packages."
"I found MORE packages! I'm glad it's not something that could hurt her. I can't believe you didn't know she was in the garage. She ADORES you!"
"I guess she followed me in when I got out the soda from your car. And then she didn't run out. She didn't bark or nothin'. I had no idea where she was."
Apparently, this ADORATION is one-sided.
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