Cottage dog food capers
The best story to come out of the boys’ closing-up adventure last weekend was not about the bear who swam beside the boat on his way to our island. He was likely one of two or three bears that cottagers in our bay have glimpsed over the past two summers. “You stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours” is our tacit understanding, and so far that’s working for everyone.
No, the best story was about the exuberant (is there any other kind?) Labrador retriever who burst into the cottage in great excitement along with the rest of the happy canine crew that inevitably turns up on the men’s weekends.
Of course, where there are dogs there is dog food, and the big lab couldn’t resist sticking his nose in an open bag of kibble as he went by. But when he lifted his head, he found to his dismay that it was stuck in the bag. What ensued was a high-speed chase through the cottage: the dog, frantic, running around shaking his head in an effort to remove the bag, bashing blindly into furniture as Iams chunks fell down around him; the men, running behind trying to grab the dog; the rest of the dogs, not to be left out, vocally joining in the fun.
DH told me the story Monday night when he got home
and I’m still laughing.