Buried

Have you ever had one of those senior moments – you know, when you see something, you know it’s wrong, but it just doesn’t register until much later. This morning I went out to the mud room to let the dogs out. Shadow was all over me as usual, I noticed she had dirt on her nose and I thought she must have buried her bone from the night before.

Anyway, I let them out and tied Archer up, Shadow headed strait for the bread buckets in search of scraps. I hassled the kids along – they had arrived home late the evening before because of Skiing and Soccer practice and we left some of the chores until this morning.

So we finally finish feeding pigs, piglet’s, chooks and other assorted poultry and head back to the house. As I go in I noticed that the ash bucket beside the door is looking a little full and make a mental note to empty it later – and that’s when the penny dropped…!

I called the dog over and sat her down, I pointed into the bucket and asked her if she had been in the ashes (no reference to the Cricket) – she looked at me and wagged her tail with that “aren’t I a clever dog” look – needless to say the bone has been dug out and buried properly.