day 20: pursue

I made bacon to go with my eggs for dinner tonight.  It was glorious.

And. 

Right now, as I type, I can hear one of my man-eaters in the kitchen trying to track down the remnants of said bacon.  I can hear her rummaging in the trash right now {of course, I'm on to her antics so I  threw the contraband away in the dumpster while she was still outside}; then she will go to the sink to try to sniff the dishes, but they have already been washed and put away; finally, I will hear her nose open the cabinet where I keep the screen that keeps the bacon from spitting.  At that last resort, I will have to leave you for a bit.  It's a little gross to let the dog lick the clean pots and pans.  Just sayin'.

The dog is relentless.  The kitchen is like her personal casino and dinner time is like playing a hard-core game of craps.  One time, I left the kitchen briefly and came back to find she had eaten a whole stick of butter.  What?  Who does that ish?  Apparently, my dog.  Another time, she managed to turn on the stove with her big ol' feet.  {That wasn't really funny, I for real have dreams that I wake up in the morning and she's got the burner lit and just-a-roarin'.}  Yesterday while I was making chili, she just about knocked me over trying to get a piece of onion that I had dropped on the floor.  I thought that might deter her scavenging ways, but clearly a little onion will not stand in the way of a bacon hunt.

All in all, though, Miss Sadie Lou is sweet.  She is stubborn.  She is head-strong.  She is prissy.  And if she had pinky fingers, she would have hers permanently and proudly raised.  And for goodness sakes, when she bats her eyes in the midst of whatever havoc she is wreaking, my heart just melts and I find myself fighting the urge to cuddle her.  {She only cuddles on her terms, ever been snubbed by a dog?  Right!  I told y'all she was stuck up!}

This man-eater has a whole lot to teach her mama about being sweet and holding her own at the same time.  But, the lesson this afternoon was that sweet doesn't mean settling with the same dog food every morning and every night.  It means employing stealth, creativity, and perseverance to savor even just the smell of some bacon.  

Or in the case of the pictures above, batting her sweet brown eyes thus deterring me from making the bed and forcing me to stop and love on her just a bit.  Until, of course, she had had enough of the lovey-dovey nonsense.