Thursday, 3 November 2011

The Trash Pit

Our other dog is a tiny Chihuaha called Holly. While she lacks size she makes up for it in attitude and heart. She is a good natured, non yappy, affectionate, child proof, spoilt rotten member of our family.

She is also a connoisseur of fine foods. No burritos for her. Her day usually starts with a cup of tea and her toast and Vegemite. She also has a penchant for pasta and baked beans. If it's on our plates, she thinks it's good dog tucker.  

Her basket is known as the Trash Pit. She puts everything she finds around the house in there - shoes, dog treats, rubber bands, pens, coins and any other shiny or desirable object. If there is food or treats around she turns into a squirrel, hiding bits in shoes, under cushions, anywhere she thinks the old dog or the cats won't find it. Usually these morsels end up in the tried and tested Trash Pit as well. She will stand guard for hours and woe be to any animal who goes near.

The other night the grandchildren were around, and after some excited play she sat down with them to enjoy the pats and endless attention. Then, after dinner, Holly disappeared. We called, checked she hadn't been locked outside by accident but she was nowhere to be found. Then one of the kids spotted her behaving strangely in the Trash Pit. I thought she may have hurt herself while she was playing. She was reluctant to leave her bed and it took a moment to realize what the problem was.

See for yourself.

There it was - the prize of the night - stolen from some unsuspecting child's plate. Her very own hot dog.

I'm glad this didn't end up in my shoe.....

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