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24 November 2010
I left the house for a twenty-minute errand. When I came back, →[More:] Crosbie the dog had eaten AN ENTIRE PIE.
It could have been worse. It was pumpkin. And there's a Whole Foods five minutes away that's open till ten.
Mudpuppie definitely knows Crosbie. Two hours later, including a half-hour walk, he's showing no adverse effects whatsoever -- just snoring happily on the couch.
Some years ago, I (and my Siberian Husky) was visiting my mom on Thanksgiving. We all left the morning after for some Black Friday shopping, and I crated the dog in one of the back bedrooms. I remember very distinctly thinking to myself, "I probably can just set the top on the bottom, putting the door in, and latch just a couple of the little rotolock thingies."
I know what you're thinking, and you're right.
When we got home, the dog greeted us at the door, wagging her tail. We found the remains of two pie plates in the kitchen floor. The pie was gone. An enormous tupperware container that had been chock full of yeast rolls was lidless and empty. I thought for sure she was going to die from eating what had to be two pounds of bread plus the pies. The dog was roundly scolded and sent to her now-properly-assembled crate.
It turns out, however, that Ms. Dog did not eat her weight in bread that day. She hid a couple behind the piano, a few in my mom's bed, some in the houseplants, some under an end table... behind the couch... behind a chair... ad-almost-infinitum. My mom was finding rock-hard yeast rolls stashed in weird places for about 8 months.
Dear departed Jakey the wonderdog once downed an entire chicken breast in 1 bite, in the 10 seconds my back was turned. This was not a boneless chicken breast. Once he realized we were going to feed him, every day, twice, he chilled out about food.