Food Hound

So, last night I told you what I thought Zoe’s nickname should be: BitterSweets.  But after going through some pictures and recalling some recent stories as well as previous posts I think she really deserves another Alias.  I am still working on what exactly it should be but it has to do something with her ability to identify, obtain, or steal: FOOD (especially bread products).

For instance, tonight Mom was working on making dinner while I was discussing my new idea with The Scribe when we heard a holler from the kitchen.  We both responded in an instant but in this case Mom was quicker – this time – and saved the mini-baguette (which just so happened to be next to some skirt steak – reinforcing my prior carb based fixation she, Zoe, has).

This weekend we called Michigan and told Pa (whom I referred to a MorFar even though he is technically my FarFar – but to everyone other than Zoe and Me…and previous Montana, Sammy, Banshee, Boomer and Has…he was known as MorFar and I didn’t want to confuse Snowy who I am sure reads everything I write) another Zoe story.  In this instance, my parents were in Chicago at a concert when they received a call from the pet sitters who stopped by to feed us our dinner.  Turns out, someone – not named Tempi – had broken into the pantry and eaten all the kibble that had been set aside for our evening repast.  Now some of you familiar with my antics may be suspicious that it was me who gained access to the food area but my name tag was still in my bowl – Zoe’s had been consumed along with all the food.  As further support of my innocence, in the morning when Mom fed us I was ecstatic (maybe even loving her a bit to remind her what time it was), whereas Zoe was more like: “What?  More food? Cool.”

Here are a couple of other instances where she demonstrated her “Cookie Monster” (where cookie = any food, but especially bread) abilities.  The first was on our first trip together to New Mexico.  On the way home during one stretch just about dinner time, Dad asked her where her food was.  Zoe immediately sat in front of the frunk and correctly identified the location of dinner!  And would not budge until Mom fed her.

Then there was a recent Sunday morning when the pack took a walk down to the local coffee shop (you may have heard of this chain: Starbucks?).  Anyhow, we walked past the pet store that we’ve been in a couple of times to get treats, food, and even a bath or two.  Guess who was more interested in this business establishment over Starbucks – even though she has been known to lap up our Mom’s morning coffee if she isn’t protecting it…as long as it has milk in it.

There are others… the time she ran into the car and ate one of two loves of cinnamon bread my parents bought for Michigan (FarMor / MorFor loved Mom’s french toast made from it).  My dumb parents were like “wow!  She wants to go to MI!”  Quickly followed by “Zoe!  Stop!  Not for you!”  Oops.  They still had one loaf though.  Or the time charging in NE it was super hot – like 100 degrees.  Mom let us in the car and some dude kept talking and talking and talking to Dad about their cars (don’t worry – Mom was monitoring the app ensuring the car was at a comfortable 68 degrees).  Anywhoo, they finally drove down the highway and Mom said to Dad “Oh!  I got you a cinnamon roll.  Wait.  Where is it?”  Well, they found the empty wrapper!  With a very content Zoe in the back.

I am still open to any suggestions for an alternative nickname for BitterSweets if anyone has a fitting nome de Zoe.  In the meantime, I’ll keep working my brain on one myself.

The Tempest

Bitter Sweet

For some reason my mother (and now also the Scribe) like to refer to me as BabySweets.  This started when I first decided to live with them.  Not that I mind because it is a fairly accurate description of my charming personality.  Anyhow, I was thinking the other day that Zoe should have a similar type nickname and in short order I came up with: BitterSweets.

See, there are times that I love having her around such as:

1.  Good wrestling matches on Dad as he is trying to wake up in the morning
2.  Chasing each other around –
   1. the backyard
   2. the mountain tops of New Mexico
   3. the dog park
   4. through snow
   5. through mud
   6. the house
3. Taking walks as a pack
4. Chasing squirrels or other little varmints
5. Watching movies “Theater Style”

But then there are those times I think to myself: “Being an only dog wouldn’t be so bad.”

Like when she:

1. steals my bone
2. steals my toys
3. picks a major fight where The Scribe still hasn’t learned his help is unnecessary, unwanted, and ultimately not in his best interests – especially his hands that occasionally end up in one of our mouths.
4. won’t let me sleep in
5. tries to play tug with Mom or Dad

Now for those of you keeping score that is 5 pluses and 5 minuses.  However, upon reflection (and lots of soul searching), I realized that if one factors is the amount of time we spend doing the pluses and the time spent on the minuses, the Pluses win out hands down.  My Father’s eldest sister, who lives in Michigan and is the mother of my good friend Snowy, might have done different maths when considering life as an only child rather than having two sisters and a baby brother – but you’ll have to ask her that question yourself.

Anyhow, I’ve come to realize that there are a lot of bitter sweet moments in life or should I say which makes up life.  It’s hard for me to figure how to get the sweet without the bitter since I can’t find any equations from Mr. Google.  Maybe I’ll have to change my search strategy to include great philosophers…or The Dude.

“Yeah,well, that’s just, like, your opinion, man.”

The Tempest

Dedicated to “MorFar”