I have a big black Labrador named Truck. He was part of the Three Ring Circus I blogged about not too long ago. He is quite big...oh wait, I already said that. But he is NOT fat, and I am not just saying that to make him feel better about himself. He is big boned. Seriously! Just ask my vet!
Anyways, Truck loves food! He loves cheap dog food, he loves expensive dog food, he loves cat food which he steals from Hidey, and he loves rawhide bones which he devours in about 30 minutes. He would love human food but we do not give him any table scraps at all. We are very strict about it!
Monday morning Truck was let out and fed by my son at his normal time of 6:00 AM. At around 6:30 I am jerked from sleep by frantic barking in the front yard. Deer, I think wearily to myself. He will get over it. Sure enough, the barking ceased but 5 minutes later I hear a pounding on the front door. Neighbors, I think in horror to myself. They are coming over to complain about Truck barking at the deer! It is my birthday and I can't even sleep in!! I leap from bed ready to calmly but coolly annihilate whatever person happens to be at my front door only to find nothing but a basket full of bagels and pastries and fruit.
About now I am feeling, well, stupid! So I grab the basket and bring it in all the while wondering where on earth Truck is and thinking how fortunate that he wasn't around or the basket would be empty. Last year for my birthday, my sister mailed me a package which he had chewed up but fortunately (for him) the earrings were inside a metal box and were ok.
I got the scoop yesterday from my friend who left the basket for me. The barking was initiated by her and her daughter taunting Truck just out of reach of his radio collar in an effort to get us to let him in the house. They are both very nervous around big dogs. When that didn't work, she had to turn to bribery. When I opened the door she was actually hiding behind my car in the driveway, shoeless, hanging onto Truck's collar while he gobbled down goodies from the basket! Apparently, she had knocked on our door, grabbed pastries from the basket, grabbed his collar and had drug him through the flower bed, losing her shoes on the way just in time before I opened the door.
So Truck is feeling like a very fortunate dog, having had breakfast from Panera for once in his life. I personally am feeling fortunate my friend is still talking to me.