Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside. ~Author unknown
Mama’s been tied up with stuff — a flurry of work, various appointments, and a visit from the Domer — so I seized her laptop for a post of my own. Cool.
Here’s what I’m wondering: What is it with humans and food?
Mama watches what I eat like a hawk. Sure, I had that pesky little digestive problem, and she’s had to clean up what she claims is more than her share of my messy diarrhea and vomit.
Sheesh! You’d think that wasn’t her job.
Anyway, a while back (little Monkeys don’t tell time yet), I found something nifty in my back yard.
It popped up from below the ground, then sprinted away as soon as I tried to get a closer look.
Mama came out of the house with all guns blazing, saw the Thing, and called it a bunny.
All I knew was, it sounded like my squeaky toys and moved of its own accord. No strings or batteries needed.
Over the next few days, every time I got a chance to go outside, I checked on Bunny.
It wasn’t long before Mama put up some stupid fence to keep me from bothering him.
Hah! Like any little ole fence can stop me. I leaped right over it — into the Arborvitae — but Bunny was gone. I didn’t give up hope though.
Then the rains came. And came. And my back yard grew puddles.
One evening, Mama took me outside, and you wouldn’t believe the treat I found: wet Bunny.
I grabbed it and raced away from Mama, who was busy fussing about mosquitoes and icky weather.
When she came near me — probably to see my treat and snatch it away — she demanded I drop it.
Is she crazy, or what? Like I’m going to drop a treat?
Well, before she could grab it, I swallowed it … whole. Take that, Mama.
I could tell by her suddenly green face that she was about to lose her dinner, and she flew inside.
Really, Mama. Which dog alive wouldn’t eat the Treat they’d worked so hard to catch? It’s not like me and Bunny were strangers or something.
Now she’s mad at me. She won’t let me lick her face, she made me sleep downstairs instead of in her bedroom, and she’s been on the phone consulting with my vet and everybody she knows.
Even some computer guy named Google.
To see if swallowing a bunny whole is gonna kill me.
Huh! Doesn’t she know rabbit is excellent protein, and my ancestors have been catching and killing them for centuries?
Tell her I’m just doing what comes naturally.