Remember that post a while ago, with Bear inside of the Rubbermaid tub? Well, there were *other* videos taken that day. Videos with... ahem... MOI... in them. I'm the Princess, after all. If I ain't in it, it ain't happenin'. Bear is cute, yeah, we get that part. But he's Bear. And I'm ME.
So below, from the secret archives of Allison's camera, rescued from the darkest corners of obscurity, here I am, Digging for Bear:
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Mommy loves to cook. We love to watch. It's the "Cooking Show", complete with Smell-o-vision and sometimes samples for the audience.
We keep our toes just on the edge of the carpet, so that we are technically in the dining room. Eskies are good about figuring out the technical angles. Toenails can hang over the carpet, and noses can be a little farther into the kitchen, but anything else and Mommy says, "Dogs out!". The offending dog(s) creep back into the dining room and lost their good spot to the better behaved. When food hits the floor, however, it's every dog for themselves.
Sometimes the casserole, or whatever, gets really stuck to the baking dish. Mommy doesn't own a dishwasher (well, she actually owns three, but we aren't the kind of dishwasher she wants to use) A while ago, the lovely smell wafting from the oven was a Shepherds Pie. With LAMB. Real ground LAMB.
Nothing brings out the Wolf in a dog like lamb. It is an incredibly compelling smell, and it gets right into the dogs most primal neural network, causing all of the synapses to fire at once. I'm drooling just thinking about it. If they sold lamb on ebay, dogs would learn how to bid. Most dogs would figure out how to be smarter just to get some lamb.
Anyway, the Shepherds Pie often sticks to the baking dish. This time, in an excess of bonhomie and general good cheer, Mommy sat the dish down for us to clean. She doesn't do that often, but that means it's even more special. And if anyone is reading this who has, in the past, eaten at our house.. or who, in the future, may possibly do so...well, soap and good hot water do wonders. And if it really freaks you out, next time take Mommy out to dinner instead. You can bring us home the scraps.
So, the dish hit the floor, and we all three went for it. We never fight... we just sort things out in a growly, posturing way. Generally, Casper gets his first when it is food related. Casper is SERIOUS about food. He says that it's from his Mysterious Past, but then he stops talking and gets that Look. Like he's an ex-CIA agent and if he tells you, he would have to kill you. So we don't ask. He's just jerking our choke chain, so to speak. We think. Maybe.
Casper hogged the dish, this time, until he almost licked the glaze off of it. Maybe in the future Mommy will divide the Shepherds Pie into three smaller baking dishes, so that there can be an Eskie head in EVERY pot.
Posted by Joanie at 9:16 PM