Monday, July 07, 2008
They're funny, these animals that we have half civilized and half not. This is a photo of Molly eating a crunchy. Crunchies are nuggets of dog food, Science Diet mind you, that are always in a bowl by her water. She doesn't eat the crunchies at the bowl, as she does her wet dog food. No, each crunchy must be personally selected and brought to the Crunchy Eating Pillow. That plaid thing is the Crunchy Eating Pillow. The process is this: she trots off to the other room to get a crunchy. She returns to the office with her crunchy. She deposits said crunchy on the Crunchy Eating Pillow. Then she circles the crunchy, going 'round in several circles until she finds the best angle. Her goal is to bury the crunchy and she works mightily at nosing the fabric of the Crunchy Eating Pillow over it. This is, of course, impossible. The crunchy remains in view. She tries again, nosing more aggressively. Still, the crunchy will not be mastered; it sits there like the cherry on top of the sundae. What to do? What to do? What to do? Aha! you can almost see the thought bubble above her head. To get rid of the crunchy, she must eat it. Right now. Yes, that will definitely deal with the recalcitrant crunchy. Which she does, and it does--whereupon she trots off to the other room to get another crunchy and begin the process all over again.
Atavistic dog behavior: she knows she must hide her food from the rest of the pack. And she knows how to do it. She just doesn't know that she's totally in the wrong setting.