Mum tells Dad an umusing story from her work-at-home day today. Our "sweeties", often referred to in this blog, are almost invariably of the dried meat variety. Hartz (as was, not sure if they haven't been swallowed up) "Treatsters" were always a favourite - the square flat "half dice" shaped ones, with a hole punched into the centre. Since they've become harder to find round town we've moved onto (Purina) Bakers "Rewards" - the 4 inch long "sticks" of dried meaty stuff marked in segments.
This (meaty) choice was because Haggis does not "do plants" so no kind of biscuit or choc drops was acceptable. This causes much wrinkling of noses from well-meaning little old ladies who while out walking their own dogs, try to offer us a treat. Myself and Meggie take ANYTHING eagerly, while Haggis gingerly takes any offered treat between his lips, then drops (almost "spits" it out - you can almost hear the Peanuts-cartoon "pftoui!" noise) it onto the ground, walking away in disgust.
Mum and Dad though have, since Christmas, had a bag of choc drops, which Dad, in the dark, recently opened thinking it was "real" sweeties. Megs is happy with this and Dad had taken, whenever a sweetie opportunity arose (I'll explain the "rules" another time) to grabbing a meaty one for the H (hoping we'd not notice) and a small pinch of choc-drops for us. Worked OK for a while, but today, when Mum went to call me in, I sussed her out.
I came to the door to accept the sweetie. H got his meaty one and trotted in, Meg her choc drops and trotted in, but I took a sniff, realised they were chocolate ones, not "real" ones and , in a way the made Mum crack up, strolled off in a teenager manner till Mum produced a proper sweetie. I then trotted in with a "that's OK then" look at her as I went by
Gotta keep these humans under control you know - or you'd not know what they were up to
Deefs
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