The Great Turkey Drop

The preparation for the Thanksgiving feast starts in the dark of the early morning while the family is still asleep. I thought Doc was just applying her Puritan work ethic, but alas, it was to hide the deep dark secrets of the meal preparation.

I lie at a safe distance from the kitchen entrance, but still close enough in case some food should drop to the floor. On this particular Thanksgiving, Doc took great care to massage the twenty pound turkey both under and over the skin with melted butter, herbs and spices. After stuffing the turkey, she lifted the beautiful bird to put in the roaster. Just as she was bending over, the turkey slipped from her arms, hit the floor with a plop and skidded across the floor. It came screeching to a halt when it hit the wall. I didn’t know someone could say so many profane words in such a short span of time. The Pilgrims would have blushed!

After Doc calmed down, she picked up the bird, inspected it and found an assortment of crumbs, grime and other kitchen dirt on the turkey. I couldn’t believe what happened next. Doc cleaned off the turkey and put it right in the oven. Then she looked me in the eye, pointed her finger and threatened me to stay silent about what I had witnessed. She bribed me with some meat scraps. It worked, I didn’t tell a soul.

Hours went by and the family started arriving. The table looked beautiful and everyone’s spirits were high. The smells from the kitchen were enticing. I have to hand it to Doc, she served that dirty bird without even flinching. No one died from food poisoning and everyone went home full and happy. I guess we should all be thankful for that. HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!cartoon-turkey-with-hat

If you think dogs can’t count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then giving Fido only two of them.

— Phil Pastoret

The Journey Continues

DSC_4587Moving in with a new roommate can be stressful, especially if it’s a human. All I’ve ever known is the dog pack, so there were adjustments. It was evident right from the beginning that Doc was establishing herself as the Alpha.

Alphas have lots of stupid rules. No going to the bathroom in the house, no chewing on the furniture, no nipping, no pulling feathers out of the pillows and the list goes on and on. Just when you think you know how you are suppose to act, off to puppy kindergarten classes you go. There you learn a whole new set of rules. I was only 10 weeks old, but I was already exhausted from all the things you need to know to function in polite society.

When I finally graduated from all my training, it was off to my new job. I started on Friday’s when I was five months old. I met patients and staff and became accustomed to all of the noises and daily routines. I liked it from the start. People brought me treats, dog toys, and rubbed my belly. But of course, who doesn’t love a puppy. I kept growing and learned to be a good therapy dog. I soon realized that the patients and the staff needed me. I provided comfort, comic relief and unconditional love.

Two years have passed since my birth and I am now a registered therapy dog. The relationship with Doc has developed into a special bond. We care for each other and  for those that need us. At the end of the day when I am curled up next to Doc, I sometimes think about the farm and the day that Doc came and picked me for this special life. Then, I drift off to sleep feeling content.

Dogs have owners, cats have staff.

— Anonymous