I came home from the Old Shoe meeting in Skull Valley tonight to a mess. Normally Romy or Oz ride along with me, but tonight I left them home, in separate areas of the house. If I forget and leave garbage under the sink when I leave, Romy goes through it every time. I congratulated myself as I walked to my car for remembering to take out the garbage. But when I came home, she'd managed to open the refrigerator and clean it out. Although I have tile floors, eating on the tile just won't do. Whatever she eats she takes to the carpet--it's a dog thing.
I knew something was wrong when I first walked in the house because I couldn't find her. Normally she waits by the door when I drive up. I walked into kitchen and saw the open refrigerator. I looked into the great room and there, strewn all over the carpet, was the contents of the refrigerator.
There were chicken legs, beef hearts with a corner gnawed off, beef livers half-eaten, an empty, torn baggie of unknown origin and a few other items that caught her eye. I had a coffee cake covered by foil in the refrigerator. She'd peeled back the foil but apparently it didn't interest her, although I know that if there hadn't been so much meat, it would have met the same fate.
In case you think I'm some type of horrific carnivore, the meat was for the dogs. I try to feed them as much raw food as possible.
Just after I'd cleaned up the mess, my boyfriend called. I tried explaining the sight to him, all the while laughing hysterically. It was just a visual, I guess, legs and kidneys and hearts all splayed out on the floor. He didn't find the humor in it. It worries me when we don't laugh at the same things. I think you can get through just about anything if you can laugh about it.
The meeting, though, was good. The topic was the literature and reading in general. The Old Shoe group is an informal group, small and humorous. I always leave meetings in a better frame of mind than I arrived in. Tonight was no exception. I said goodbye to my friends since I'll be heading back to the midwest later this week. I hate leaving friends, but I know that wherever I go, if I go to meetings, I'll make new ones.
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2 comments:
hhhaaaaHAAAHHHHAAA
Its like changing seats on the Titanic; if Romy can't get her drug of choice, in this case gooo ripe garbage, then I guess she'll settle for fresh stuff. I wish I could see her opening the door. Dog Hodini
I was talking to my trainer friend this morning after Romy's latest refrigerator raid. He said that you have to treat dogs like Chinese idiots; they have a different culture and we just have to accept it, make accommodations (he uses a bungie cord, too) and love them anyway. He's Czech (as is Romy; so I told him I prefer to think of her as a Czech idiot.
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