No Bones About It!

Sometimes when Louie and Mom go out to dinner, they’ll come back home with a treat for me: a bone! You can’t imagine how good it tastes; after years of eating nothing but kibble and grass, a bone from a t-bone steak is divine! It’s so nice of them to think of me!

But not everyone is excited for me when I get my bone. The girl upstairs always makes a big stink, and I don’t understand why. She talks about boiling the bones to make them more chewy, and less likely to splinter… I guess choking on broken bones is an issue for dogs that have a few more teeth! After giving her spiel she relents, and I’m back to flavor town.

The compromise is that I’m always under supervision when chewing on a bone from a restaurant. Sam still doesn’t seem happy, but when the bone starts to break, Louie and Mom are pretty quick to get it out of my paws (not that I make it easy for them!)

But it Tastes So Good...

Mom has a lot of rules around the house to make sure things stay safe and clean: don’t pee in the house, don’t eat people food, only jump on people’s laps when you’re invited, and most importantly don’t eat the outside plants.

I try my best, but… I just can’t help it! I love the taste so much, but when I eat plants, I get sick and usually end up making a mess… But have you ever tried eating plants? Flowers? Grass? They’re delicious!

Sometimes Mom or Louie will catch me trying to sneak a quick bite on a walk, and I’ll hear the crescendo of caution from a low growl: “Scoooout…” Sometimes they even pull the plants right out of my mouth (how rude!).

My best chance to sneak a bite is when I’m home alone without supervision; I’ll trot into the back yard and start nibbling on the grass. I still have to be careful though; one wrong move and I won’t hear my family come home, and they’ll catch me in the act of snacking!

I know it’s bad for me… but it tastes so good!

The Invitation

When I first moved in with Mom, I wasn’t allowed on the furniture. Well, okay, we told everybody I wasn’t allowed on the furniture, and whenever we had company I’d be a good boy, but when it was just Mom and I, she’d pick me up and play with me on the couch… our secret!
I loved couch time so much that eventually I started jumping up on the couch whenever she sat down, but it wasn’t the same.

“Were you invited?” She would ask me.

I would look at her expectantly, my tail wagging as it slowly occurred to me that no, I wasn’t invited, and I’d hop back down. The couch just isn’t as warm if I’m not invited… I’ve gotten better at figuring out when I’m invited though. Sometimes I can even hop up without needing a vocal invitation, but I still like to be sure I’m invited. Something about the invitation makes me feel sure that it’s okay for me to be up there, that there’s a place for me; otherwise, I’m just walking all over people, which isn’t super comfy.

Of course, every now and then I’ll try my luck and hop up on my own. It feels weird, but sometimes Mom lets me get away with it!