You have to watch out for food around here. On occasion it disappears. It used to be Tucker, all 130 pounds of him, was our challenge, but while he still waits by the stove to grab a morsel, he no longer knocks the stove over. I suppose old age has taken some strength out of that tendency.
Enter Merlin. He is happy to oblige where he can. Take, for example, the pork chop. Last night it was spiced up and ready for the grill along with its other mate. I turn away to make the salad and put out the plates. I didn’t notice at first. But it sure got uncommonly quiet in the kitchen, rather unusual around dinner time. I look at the counter and notice only one pork chop. I also note that only one dog remains, Sophie, our Corgi who has no chance in hell of ever getting to counter height. I yell, “Merlin!” Why? Because I knew! Case in point. The linguica, almost eight inches long. He grabbed it off the bread board right in front of me and swallowed that thing so fast I never had a chance. Thank God he didn’t choke to death. And then there was the cube of butter. You get the drift. Needless to say I got back the pork chop sans the meat.
Now, I fully understand that Merlin has a few hang-ups. Who doesn’t, right? Before us he never knew about table scraps and he ate with several other dogs, free range style, out of a trough. Thought he must have died and gone to heaven when he got his very own bowl. Got regular dog treats too – which he actually scoffs at, but who wouldn’t with linguica around?!?