My Dogs...And Why I Wanted to Believe It Was a Stick
My dogs are great...most of the time. Loyal, supportive (Lilly is my writing buddy and is laying at my feet while I type), sweet, and the best of nap buddies.
But this guy...
This sweet baby can do the most disgusting things.
Luca has enjoyed the cooler fall temps (which for Texas means temperatures in the 70s) and insists on going in and out and in and out all day.
Normally, he barks a "Woof" when he wants to come in. Instead, he stood at the door with what appeared to be a stick in his mouth. Even before he lost his teeth, carrying sticks was unusual for him.
I snagged him and got him to drop his prize. The chewy he'd been gnawing wasn't a stick.
Not a stick.
This is the skeletal remains of a bird's leg. After a lot of shuddering and gagging, I got rid of the leg and then searched the yard for any other random bird parts. I found the feathers, but everything else had been carried off. I'm telling myself that the neighborhood feral cat feasted on the rest. *More shudders*
So, while I do still love my pups, I do not always love their antics...or their choice of DIY treat.