My walks are always a delight, but much to my mom’s dismay, I’m able to spot and snarf up the most disgusting pieces of leftover discarded garbage you can imagine before she’s even able to spot them. After all, I was a “street runner” before she rescued me, and that’s how I lived for quite some time before I got lucky. If she’s able to see them first, I’m good with the “leave it” command. But…if I see it first…there’s no getting it out of my mouth no matter how hard she tries. Being a Cairn, I have jaws of steel. It works well for hanging on to a capture. Once I latch on to a rodent, a bunny, a squirrel, or a fly, they’re dead meat. I only let go to present it to mom as a gift of appreciation for all she does for me.
Living in Arizona now, most of the bodies begin to rot very quickly. My most recent captures have been fried lizard lips, a small piece of a half baked bunny butt in the neighbor’s yard, a crunchy cricket in the gutter, and some skeletal remains of something I didn’t even recognize. Even better, are the prizes I get on recycle days. There have been moldy Ding Dongs, half eaten greenish Twinkies, (hard as a rock, I might add), soured cottage cheese, putrid yogurt cups, slimy spaghetti, and something that looked like spinach pizza gone bad three weeks ago. Once I manage to get a bite of these delicacies down, there’s nothing to do but wait. The tummy rumbles usually start around bedtime…11:00 or so at night.
Trust me…there’s nothing that will get mom out of bed faster than me starting to vomit at 3:00 in the morning. I honestly didn’t know mom could move that fast! Once the multi color barf is out of my gut, I feel much better, and go back to my crate and crash for the rest of the night. I can hear mom mumbling obscenities about my lust for disgusting appetizers instead of the “oh so expensive Hills Prescription Dog Food” she makes special trips to the vet for.
The absolute worst, is…wait for it…the snarf of the barf that I’ve already barfed. I’ve been known to clean up after myself before mom can get to the paper towels, and this brings on the most violent retching from mom I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. I swear I heard her say, “Son of a pitch me out of a ten story building!” the last time this happened. I tried to help her finish with the cleanup but she shoved my hiney in the crate and kept saying, “Good night, Missy!” You can see the “before and after” the puke pictures. No harm done.
Come morning, I’m set for that dog food, with no ill effects. I promise to be good, until I just can’t control myself again. Life is good in my little corner of the world. I love my mom! (burp)