Furry Flashbacks – What the…??

During the 17 years that I have been a doggie mom, I have asked, “What the…??” numerous times. Most of the time, I end up laughing and shaking my head. But one time in particular left me thinking that I had lost my mind.

I was heading to the gym, but before I left, I put some frozen chicken breasts (four or five) in a glass casserole dish and set them on the counter to defrost. I slid the dish as far back on the counter as I could and chuckled while I did. I remember specifically thinking, “Rocky’s not going to bother this. He’s too old and it’s too far back on the counter.” (This was pre-Jacques.) With that, I went to the gym.

When I returned home about two hours later, I was greeted with great fanfare (as usual) by Rocky. He escorted me through the kitchen barking and dancing the whole way. I got to the living room and stopped. Something was wrong. I looked back at the kitchen but didn’t notice anything out of place, so I continued through the living room to let Rocky out. I stopped again… I had this nagging feeling. Something wasn’t right. I went back to the kitchen, turned the light on and quickly looked around, but, again, nothing caught my attention. As I turned to leave, it dawned on me. The casserole dish had been moved.

I walked over to inspect it. It was only moved a few inches… but there was now only one chicken breast in it. And there was no drips down the side of the cabinet; no liquid of any kind on the floor. There was no indication of what happened to that chicken. As I stood and looked at the crime scene, it was obvious who the culprit was, but I couldn’t figure out how he did it. I tried to imagine the scene and just couldn’t. For a few minutes I really felt like I was losing my mind. Surely I didn’t imagine putting out all that chicken? Why would I only set out one breast?? If Rocky ate them, how did he get them and a) not make a mess or b) not break the glass dish? Was it Ancient Aliens? Or was I just losing my mind??

IMG_0213The casserole dish was left flush with the back wall on a 2+ft. deep counter top.

I still have no idea exactly how Rocky managed to get to the chicken, but it’s obvious that’s what happened. He, of course, played dumb when I asked him about it. (And don’t think eating all that chicken kept him from eating his dinner!) From then on, if something needed to be defrosted that day, I put it in the sink. I wasn’t taking any chances after that! Oh, Rocky… what the…???

IMG_1332“Missing chicken? I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

This Little Piggy

this little piggy wanted to go to the market

piggy_marketbut instead he had to stay home

this little piggy wanted sympathy

piggy_homebut indeed he got none

so he cried “boo hoo hoo” until daddy came home


that’s when this little piggy got a pleasant surprise

and his little piggy mind would be blown

“A short stack for Short Round!” yelled his kind daddy

piggy_shortcakesand indeed the piggy had some

piggy_shortcakes3and cried, “mmm mm mmm!!!!” until they were all gone


The Discerning Diner

Dog owners know that sometimes your dog can suddenly and for no reason become a picky eater. Yes, this creature that eats bugs, grass, stuffing from a toy and other random objects (not to mention its own poop!) will – at one time or another – turn its nose up at its dinner dish and walk away in some sort of canine protest. But hunger eventually gets the best of them and they swallow their pride followed by whatever is in their bowl – usually in one giant gulp.

This is true with most dogs. Luckily for me, Jacques isn’t most dogs. (In case you’re wondering, that last statement was dripping, no, oozing with sarcasm.)

Jacques gets so excited when it’s time to eat. He’ll do doggie NASCAR laps in the living room or come running in the house from outside going full speed – ears back, head down, tongue flapping in the wind – then screech around the corner to the kitchen before coming to an abrupt halt right in front of his dish. Even though he’s winded from all the excitement, he finds the strength jump and down, twirl in circles and yell non-stop until his food dish is placed in front of him. Then he falls eerily still and silent.


He looks at the dish then at you and sits down. He just sits and stares at you. He doesn’t move. I’ve come back 5 minutes later and he’s still there. Staring. In what appears to be disgust. Apparently Monsieur Jacques expected filet mignon and got the Pedigree special and was not happy about it. He eventually realizes that the filet dinner isn’t going to happen so he picks himself up, looks at the food one more time, and with a disgusted “hmph” he stomps off. He usually throws himself on some piece of furniture in a corner of the living room and grunts his disapproval on last time before falling asleep.

diner1  diner3

The next morning when I check his dish, all of the food is still there. I guess he held out hope all night that a filet would magically appear in his bowl. (It’s probably similar to how I hold out hope that a winning lottery ticket will magically appear in my hand. It’s disappointing every time.) I’ll eventually hear him sneaking bites of his food. He’s too proud to go in and chow down. No, no, no… He can’t let you know that he’s lowered himself to the Pedigree special.

Keep holding out hope, buddy. Maybe one of these days you’ll find a filet in your bowl. And I’ll find a winning lottery ticket in my hand.

Totally random picture of Rocky… because I can. 🙂