Hiya, guys, George here making a one-off appearance as a writer on the blog. I’m really excited that mum allowed me to do my own thing for once. I have been helping her with ideas and stuff like that since the very beginning, but never before has she trusted me with the actual writing. She’s so controlling, really, she always says that my English is not good enough. Yeah, right, look who’s talking. Her Dog is much worse than my English and I’m not moaning about it.
Anyway, mum noticed how upset I was to hear some people say that I am just a pretty face, and decided to give me a chance to prove them wrong. So here I am, trying to make the most of this opportunity by talking about a subject I love dearly. Have you guessed it already? Of course you have, it’s what all of us, dogs, dream of day and night: bones!
A couple of days ago I read about how my friend Little Miss Maple was introduced to her first marrow bone. Oh, what an exciting time for her! Reading her post made the memories of my first ever ‘bone encounter’ wash over me like a tsunami. I don’t think I’ll ever forget my first bone. Well, it wasn’t a real bone … I mean, a big one … it was a chicken wing. But it doesn’t really matter, it’s still technically a bone and that’s what I’ll call it. And it was still a great experience.
Like Maple, I didn’t really know what to make of it. So I sniffed it and worked out straight away that it was something edible. It smelled meaty, so I thought a lick won’t hurt. So I licked it. It was soft, smooth and cold. Chickeny. But it didn’t break apart into small pieces like the food I was used to. So what is a dog to do in this situation? I thought really hard about what to do next. I picked it up gently with my teeth and dropped it back on the grass (several times), to assess its weight and see what it can do. Nothing. Then I dragged it across the garden, to see what it can do. Nothing.
So I thought to myself that I’d better bury it somewhere and leave it for later. Just to see what happens. I found myself a lovely spot in my mum’s flower bed and started digging a little hole. Mum will tell you it was the entrance to a huge tunnel to China, but it wasn’t really. It was just a tiny hole, only big enough for my chicken wing. And my ball. And half of my own body. But I only buried the bone. And the ball.
Then I went in for a little nap, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the bone. What if it rots away by the time I wake up? What if the earthworms start eating it before me? Or, even worse, what if another dog comes into my garden, digs it out and steals it? I couldn’t bear the thought so I rushed past Brianna (almost knocking her over) and into the garden. I dug my bone out in a flash. It came out a bit dirty, but somehow the dirt had added to its taste. And texture. So I took a deep breath and took my first bite. With my front teeth. That was a bad idea, as the bone was hard. Luckily, I’m a clever boy so I worked out that I had to use my scissor teeth (like in the picture). And it worked! Oh, the delight of those first 5 minutes of gnawing on a bone will never be forgotten!
I did have to stop half-way through, as I got really thirsty. Because I knew that the trip to my water bowl and back was going to take me 10 very long seconds, I thought that maybe it was a good idea to bury the bone again. So that the other dog can’t steal it. So I started to dig a hole. A new one to keep my bone fresh. But mum wasn’t impressed and stopped me before I got the chance to finish the job. This unexpected hindrance left me facing a desperate situation. Desperate situations call for resolute decisions. So I decided to eat the remaining half of my bone so that I’d have nothing else to worry about.
That’s how it all started for me. I read that Maple was much neater and quicker than me in dealing with her bone. I wonder why that is? Maybe girls are different to boys after all.
Anyway, almost three years and hundreds of bones later, I consider myself a bit of an expert on the issue of bones, hard or soft, big or small, you name it. I have perfected my eating technique and am ready to share my knowledge with anyone interested. But not now, mum says I’ve already written too much and it’s time to go.
So it’s good-bye for now, friends. I hope you liked my post and will tell my mum. Then she might let me write a post again sometime in the future. Once I’ve had a rest. A long one, ’cause this blogging business is tought. I don’t know how you guys do it. Woof!
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