someone gives you a bone, and then you proceed to bury and re-bury it throughout the day. It's like hiding a present and then finding it over and over again.
Like, under the orange tree. Or in the corner of the yard. Or in the corner of the living room. Or under the fridge. Or by the tomato plants.
But it's a better day when you are the person that gave the dog said bone and get to watch all this unfold.
Ah, if we only could be this satisfied by bones.
1 comment:
I know it is a good day when someone gives me a bone with meat on it that they have cooked. I am retired and still have NOT gotten back into cooking. Life is too short. There are too many great books out there to read. And now with NO lessons plans to do and lots of naps to take, I am truly a busy, busy, lady. You go Scupper the Wonder Dog! mz
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