Musings - On Missing Butter & Panic Attacks

I have mentioned how great it is to travel with dogs, but they do have their moments.


When we were in Nelson, B.C., it was so cold that I didn't want to leave The Noses in the car while we went out to dinner (I'm talking 15 degrees Fahrenheit!)  So we took pity on them, put away everything within reach (or so we thought), drew two deep breaths and headed out for the evening, leaving them toasty and warm (and sleeping on our bed) in Salt.


We returned to find the bag of John Ward Fine Coffee on the floor, with some good sized teeth marks.  Thankfully only a little coffee was missing, apparently The Noses didn't enjoy it as much as we did.  


I then spotted the cover to the butter dish on the floor.  Knowing River's penchant for laying on our pillows, I turned them over and low and behold the butter dish appeared.  Empty.  At this point, River let out a nice smooth burp (as if we didn't already blame her--Rosco has his issues, as you will see shortly, but getting into food isn't one of them.)


Oh, but it wasn't over yet . . .


Crawling into bed that night, we were surprised to find a well-licked but still mostly square brick of butter nicely tucked into our sheets.
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As for Rosco, he has honed an art called, "Fake a Panic Attack in Order to Sleep on the Big Bed."


Once we hit seriously cold weather, I awoke one night to Rosco's heavy panting from the floor next to our bed.  He is normally a mellow dog--doesn't let much get to him, and I haven't heard him pant like that since his last airplane flight.  Being concerned that he was having a heart attack, I let him up on the bed to sleep at my feet.  (Remember, our bed is only 48" wide, so adding even a small dog to the mix is difficult.)


He promptly stopped panting and fell asleep.


He now does a repeat performance of this every night.  Sometimes I try to make him go back to his bed but he pants and pants and pants and I worry and worry and worry about that heart attack.  


I have taken to just starting the night with him at my feet.  


And they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks! 


-K