. . . In Pinky's War
Only a few know that Lady B and I have been at "war" the past three years with a formidable enemy, a probably 20-pound 12-year old Chihuahua who involuntarily took up residence here after a tragic motor vehicle accident that claimed her former owner's life.
Why Pinky is at war with us, we do not know and we don't know either why there is a war. We do suspect her late owner either initiated the war or fostered one going back to another former owner.
Pinky is a human food eater. Has been for a long time. Must have
luke-warm chicken or pork, maybe sometimes meat loaf, sometimes bacon or sausage, done not too hard. DON'T FEED ME STUFF FROM A BAG OR A CAN.
Pinky's late owner pan-cooked everything that went into the little blue dish on the floor in the corner. She will accept plain ole tap water.
Over the years nearly every brand of bagged food for little dogs has been purchased, placed in the little blue dish and left uneaten for days
unless there has been absolutely no cooked food available. Even then she'll go hungry.
Lady B and I patronize the local all-you-can-eat mall restaurant once or twice a week and admittedly break the no-take-out rules by ordering one extra piece of chicken, liver or pork and squirreling same into a baggie in Lady B's purse to take home a "present" for Pinky.
That little lady is wily I must say. Her war is expanding. SHE'S DISCOVERED NEW AMMUNITION IN HER WAR --- the dog food that's been coming at her in bags.
Up to very recent times, Pinky has been lifting various dog food pellets from the little blue dish and scattering them on the carpets in every room in the house. Sort of a ' I gotta get rid of this stuff somehow.'
A few nights ago Lady B brought from the store a new brand of bagged food pellets that look like pieces of liver but are hard and with sharp corners or points. Pinky tried one and just gazed at us intently until she stared us down.
That evening after we retired and fell asleep, I rolled over and felt a jab in the ribs, another in one leg. In the morning after awakening I pulled back the sheets and found - - - two pieces of the latest sharp-cornered dog food.
Of course I knew instantly what it was - but how did it get there? The next night and several more after that the same happened.
So we switched beds after figuring out Pinky was hauling in dog food and hiding it - like telling us "I don't like this stuff." We had one peaceful sleep in our substitute bed.
Today I did a search. Found dog food pellets in THREE beds. Removed all the food and then rested on the master bed a few minutes. As I rose and stepped to the floor in my bare feet, a sharp jab in one foot. Yes, dog food.
And then I caught her hiding food in our master bed. Problem discovered but a solution? Who's got an idea?
Pinky, you may starve the rest of the week if you don't learn to eat bagged or canned dog food 'cause THERE AIN'T NO CHICKEN, LIVER, BACON, MEAT LOAF OR PORK LEFT !
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