The Bones

Ok, I'll start with things Cookie is actually allowed to chew, and like all dogs I have met, he likes bones. He is encouraged to chew bones. He has all he can use. But it is apparently not enough - hence this blog.

These aren't just ANY old bones, mind you, none of your chop-bone-off-the-plate sort of bones, these are pieces of some very large animal. Ox perhaps, or buffulo, I'm not sure. Big anyway. Heavy certainly. I know this, not because I can bring myself to actually touch one (you'll see why later), but because he is tremendously proud of them. Whenever I go to sit on the back step to keep him company, he scampers off to find one of the several hundred that he has, and comes lolloping back with it in his mouth.

That of itself is endearing, but there is a problem.

In his efforts to show you the bone, it is whacked into and wiped up and down your leg continuously. There is a sort of double action going on - apart from wanting to push the bone into your lap, as he wags his tail the rest of his body and head (and bone) sort of wag a counter-point. So you end up with a sort of up and down and side to side motion all happening at once.

But I can live with that if I have sufficient time to shower carefully later.

No, the problem is the bones are heavy. They are difficult to grip, partly because they are approaching the size of his head, and partly because of the primordal ooze that covers them. Whether he gets tired, or just slips, I don't know. What I DO know is that you do not want your bare feet under one when it falls.

These bones are also very bad for lawn mowers. When you hit one that has been lurking in the long grass, there is this sort of terrible grinding, splintering, hacking, spitting sort of thing that goes on. Suffice it to say that I think I may finally have to go and buy a replacement set of blades.

The worst thing about bones, apart from the fact that they are completely useless as a distraction from chewing other things, is that they are.....how do I put this....EWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Here is an example:


No, don't adjust your colour balance, that's what they look like. And to give you an idea of size, its the better part of the length of my forearm.

Ok, to be fair, this is an average sort of bone. Some are completely bleached white and picked clean by ants, the other extream is, well, lets just say I'd prefer not to meet one in a dark alley.

The bones are routinely buried then retrieved, covered in dust, flies, gunge, grass clippings, and things that do not really bear describing. But of course, to Cookie, the single word that applies best is: YUMMO!