Conversations With Small Dogs: Buried Treasure Edition

Buddy is busily messing around with the quilt on the couch, after an afternoon spent picking fights with Eddie over who gets the chewy…um…thing. Eddie is currently sneaking between crates and rooms, with occasional forays under the couch. Henry is napping.

Me: So — whatcha doin’ there, Bud?

Buddy: Can’t talk now. Busy.

Me: Doing what?

Buddy: It’s a secret.

Me: But…Buddy, this isn’t really much of a secret. You’re hiding something.

Buddy: No, I’m not. I’m just rearranging the blanket. It was looking stupid, so I’m fixing it, just like I fixed my crate blanket earlier by dragging it into the dining room. Nothing to see here. Just keep doing your boring human things and ignore that smell.

Me: I can’t ignore the smell.

Buddy: Sure you can! Your nose sucks anyway! There’s no smell at ALL for your wussy nose.

Me: Buddy, you just very obviously wrapped the couch blanket around a pretty ripe chewy thing. Even I noticed.

Buddy: NO I DID NOT. And don’t tell Eddie.

Eddie: What? YOU CANNOT SEE ME SNEAKING HERE. I AM NOT HERE. I AM DEFINITELY NOT GOING UNDER THE COUCH WITH THIS CHEWY THING. And don’t tell that jerk — um, I mean Buddy.

Henry: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

Me: *sigh*

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About L. M. Bernhardt

For a good long while (15 years or so), I taught philosophy at a little private university in northwest IA, and occasionally branched out into playing music, dabbling in photography, experimenting with food, and writing nonsense on my blog. The philosophy teaching part ended in 2017 (program elimination via prioritization), but never fear! I've just finished my MLIS at San Jose State University, and I'm currently on the market looking for new adventures in either philosophy or LIS. Otherwise, I labor to support my dogs in the lavish manner to which they've become accustomed.
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