Bone Weary

The Englishman likes to buy our three dogs large bones as a treat.  He gets them from the meat section of the grocery store and I’m quite sure they are from a dinosaur.  

Shrink wrapped in clear plastic to hold the gristly bits inside, the dogs eagerly wait as the Englishman carefully cuts through the plastic.  Charlie and Chase quickly discard their bones and take a nap.  Abby crunches and munches away at her bone until it is coated in the perfect amount of drool.  That’s when Charlie strikes.  She’s done all the hard work and Charlie casually takes it away.  Abby, unbothered, starts on Charlie’s discarded bone.  When she is distracted, Chase spirits it away.  Abby then moves to Chase’s bone.

After a few days, there are bone fragments throughout the house.  Some are in the open, others are hidden.  The best time to find the bones is after midnight.  As we sleep soundly in our bed, we inevitably will be roused with the sounds of Abby working her jaws on a piece of bone that she smuggled into her bed.  Take away that fragment and a moment later, she has another one.  So if anyone wonders why I look tired or need a second cup of strong coffee, it is because I am bone weary.