(Foxy is my eldest daughter’s fox red Labrador. She and Tia are staying with us while their family is on holiday.)
Foxy and the Magic Dish
Every morning Foxy finishes her breakfast and immediately crosses the kitchen to investigate the other dogs’ bowls. This is not unusual – all the dogs check each other’s dishes just to make sure there are no morsels remaining, then return to their own to confirm that there really is nothing left. Some of the more hopeful dogs wait for Winston Ocicat’s bowl to be available for perusal. Foxy is always one of this number.
The same ritual is performed at supper time. Despite the recurring disappointment of never finding any scraps, at various points during the day the humans are eating and there is a slim possibility of crumbs being offered for canine delectation. Again, sadly, the dogs are usually thwarted.
Foxy, however, is the eternal optimist and the kitchen rings to the sound of metal dishes clattering across the floor as she enthusiastically licks, and licks, and licks again, rushing from one bowl to the next, tail wagging, tongue working overtime.
I think at some point Foxy must have heard the story of the Magic Porridge Pot and truly believes that if she tries really, really hard, the dishes will magically refill and she will be in seventh Labrador heaven. I fear she is destined to perpetual deflation – which is just as well, since she would otherwise be subject to huge inflation.