Memories of a Bone Encounter

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.

https://mylittledog.wordpress.com/

No, that's not my first bone. Mum wasn't so obsessed with her camera back then. I asked her to take this photo yesterday morning to go with my post. Planning ahead, you see.

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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25 Comments

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25 responses to “Memories of a Bone Encounter

  1. I’ve mentioned this before – but you and George have truly inspired me to try raw with Gus. We so enjoyed reading about Miss Maple’s first encouter with a raw bone and just know that Gus would love it.

    We don’t want to change up his diet right now when everything is so in flux, but it’s absolutely something we’ll try once we’re settled.

    Thank you to you and George for giving such great information (and photos) of the benefits of raw!

    • I can see why you’re not ready to change Gus’ diet. After all, you’re about to embark on a lifetime adventure and move around a lot, so that’s enough change for a little dog. So take your time with the bones and stuff, there’s no rush.

  2. Kristine

    George, I am so glad you were given the chance to tell this story yourself. No human could have done it quite so humourously!

    I don’t know if boys are that different than girls. My dog is a girl and she is very messy with her bones. Trust me.

    • Ok, thanks for telling me about Shiva. I don’t know anything about girls, you see, so that helps me realise that maybe we’re not that different. Maybe we’re all just dogs. Glad you liked my story. I was quite nervous writing it, so a bit of support is welcome.

  3. George, fabulous story. I’m not sure if your writing style has rubbed off on your mum, or the other way around, but you did a fine job and I, for one, say keep it up. Tell your mum to hand over the keyboard anytime you want. I do have a question. I have always heard not to give a dog soft bones, like chicken and pork, that only beef bones are safe. What do you have to say on that matter?

    • Thanks for the support and encouragement, Robin, it means a lot and helps calm my nerves. I didn’t consult with mum on this post, so maybe I have inherited her style?!
      Mum never gives me pork bones, since they are the most likely to splinter and cause problems. Some people think chicken bones are the same, but I’m not sure. I’ve never had problems with chicken wings and I have a lot of friends who eat chicken wings and carcass regularly and they’re all ok. I guess accidents could happen, but I make sure to chew my bones properly and not rush. I think not being greedy is key. I hope I answered you question well enough.

      • Thanks, George, appreciate your perspective. Grace doesn’t tend to eat her bones properly (she’s too fast), sounds like you are very wise about not being too greedy! I’m impressed. If you could send a few tips to help Grace gain that wisdom, we’d love to learn from you!

    • I don’t know if I’m that wise, really. I just like to take my time. If you ask mum, she’ll tell you that it’s because I’m really fussy with food, like most whippets.

  4. lifewith4cats

    George your a superb writer. I thank you for taking us on your journey of hole digging and bone cruching. This is a post for anyone to love. (Unless you are a seedling in a flower garden)

    • Thank you Sara, it means a lot coming from you. And don’t worry about the seedlings, now that I’m a big boy I’ve learnt to leave them alone. Well, most of the time.

  5. Hi George,

    Nice to hear from you! Your mum is so creative — allowing you to help her with the blog. What a fun idea. And I liked hearing your thoughts on bones, even if I never plan to eat them myself, or feed them to my non-fur babies. 🙂 Glad you stopped by, and I look forward to your next post!

    Melissa (a human)

    • Hi, Melissa the human, and thank you for taking an interest in my writing. My mum’s a big fan of yours, so I’m sure she’ll be pleased to read your comment. Non-fur babies chomping on bones – ha, ha – now that’s a funny image. I might challenge Brianna to a ‘first-to-finish-the-bone-gets-a-prize’ contest, thanks for the idea!

  6. Wow, George. It sounds like eating bones is helping you channel your inner wild dog. And yet you write with such a sophisticated flair. You have a lot of layers for a young dog.

    • Thank you, Pamela. I’m not sure what you mean by ‘sophisticated flair’ (mum will have to explain those words to me), but I can assure you that I only wear many layers in the winter, when it’s cold!
      What?…Not now, mum!…What is it? ….
      Oops, mum says I’ve got it all wrong. Blush. I think I’d better go now. But thanks for the comment.
      Licks to Honey x

  7. Kas

    George, you are quite the writer! We have some frozen raw marrow bones in the fridge … still waiting to give them to the pups but I think between your story and Maple’s, we might go ahead and finally give them a try!

  8. George, you’ve made me wish I had a bone! Your telling of the event was so fascinating and exciting, I felt like I was right there in the back yard with you! I do hope you get to do more writing, you’re quite good at it!

    Bunny

    • Thanks, pretty Bunny. You’re more than welcome to come around for a bone party anytime you wish. I always keep a few spare bones in the freezer, just in case. I’ll ask mum to take example of your mum and let me do more writing.

  9. Aww, George, you’re such a swell guy to have Miss Maple in your thoughts while coming up with this post—we couldn’t be more happy to hear that lil’ Maple has made an impression (and thank you for the linky).

    What a hilarious encounter you had with your first raw bone! We couldn’t stop giggling over your paranoia of losing your buried bone. It looks like you have a hearty appetite, too, and your ravenous gobbling down of raw food must mean you’re enjoying every juicy bit of it. As for Maple’s dainty mannerisms while eating, well, she’s just that way in front of the camera 😉 She can be quite messy with her food bowl…

    We hope to read more of your stories, George. You’re a fantastic writer!

    • Thanks, girls, both for the comment and for the inspiration. I’m glad you liked my story and it made you giggle. I know what you mean about the paranoia and I feel a bit ashamed of it now, but you have to remember that I was only a pup back then. I’m more confident now and I’ve worked out that the nasty bone-stealing dog doesn’t really exist. And if he did, my dad would scare him off for me (he’s good at protecting me, my dad is). Yeah, I’m a bit ravenous with my food, ’cause I’m a man-dog, but, I can’t picture Maple being messy in any way, I think you’re making it up. It would take some strong evidence to convince me, I’m afraid. One of those fab photos you put on your blog would do 🙂

  10. I think you should actually take up the blogging habit more often George, when we blog we get away with writing things that our special people don’t, this is good.
    Before I blogged (and I agree, it is very tiring it’s because of the concentration required to hit the right keys with our paws) I wrote Whippet Tails which told of how Annie became my special person and how Annie, Carlin and I went across the top of Australia and all the way down the Coast and then across the bit at the bottom, before coming back to Darwin. It was published in The Whippet Rag, a notable literary journal produced in Victoria.
    I still write things in the ongoing Whippet Tails and they are stored here on this computer thing, for pupsterity.
    Keep up with the writing George, I am toying with the idea of letting young Connor write a little more now he is approaching 2 years old.
    Woof
    Clancy

    • Thanks for your comment and the encouragement, Clancy. I’ll have to go check Whippet Tails out, I didn’t know you wrote that. You’re quite an established writer, I see. Maybe if mum lets me write a post again, you could give me some advice. Constructive criticism is welcome, too. Thanks, pal!

  11. Very nice post George. It nice to know that you are quite the digger. You would give our Corran a run for his money. I say we put those skills to good use: you and Corran could dig the first transatlantic tunnel. You start in the U.K. and he’ll start here in the U.S. We could call the “Intercontinental Bone Exchange”.

    • 😀 Intercontinental Bone Exchange…I love that! If the Eurotunnel from the UK to France was a big success, I can’t see why this one wouldn’t. Maybe we should get the boys together to have a word with each other.

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