Here is a close up of my special pumpkin from Halloween:
Concerned about the hoodlums in my neighborhood and the safety of my work of art, I brought the pumpkins inside for the night. When I got home from work yesterady...this is what I discovered:
Notice the difference? It is subtle…but if you look hard you can see that…oh…the little pumpkin is missing. “Where could it go?” you might ask. It doesn’t have legs…it can’t just walk away. I searched the house, looking for some trace of my little pumpkin. I found none…until I went out to do my daily pooper-scooper duty. Ah…I see (don’t worry I will spare you the photo of that one).
Apparently Gus got a little snackish in the middle of the night and decided to help himself to a midnight pumpkin nibble.
Not that this behavior is all that shocking. Gus has a habit of eating questionable things. Rags, earrings, my face…but the most disturbing thing he ever ate has burned an image on my mind…nylons. Seems rather harmless right? Think again. The eating and swallowing of the nylons was not the bad part. The disturbing part was when he came tearing through the house butt tucked under him, squealing and looking back at the thing trailing behind him. The elasticity of nylons might be helpful in smoothing ripples in thighs…but not so good for the digestive track. I donned my dish gloves and assisted my pup with his…ok…I’ve relived enough…you get the picture. Anyway…the hoodlum kids didn’t get my pumpkins…instead it was my hoodlum dog.