One night about 10 o'clock, I went out to check the water, maybe to plug the cistern so it would not overfill, maybe to shut the headgate to the orchard. My path took me across the patio and over the fence and to the supply canal. I did what ever I needed to do, and on my return, Rags greeted me with her gutteral rrrrrrr, and wags, and I sat down to rub her puppy body, and generally be together for a moment. I did not notice Mopsie approaching, until a big paw gave me an exuberant swipe from forehead to chin. She forgot herself! That is a big no-no, and we had to get that straight. Then she remembered her manners, and the three of us sat together for some time, loving each other. When I came inside, I put my hand to my face and discovered, ?no glasses!?
Of course I went right out to look for them, but no luck. Even after I turned on every possible light I could not find them. They were my teal green wire rimmed ones with as small a lens as my prescription will allow. They are quite out of style, and I will not be able to replace them. I've had them at least 6 years, and they have had at least two sets of lenses.
For two days, I searched when ever I was in the area, and yesterday I found my crumpled and puppy chewed remains.
Yesterday, I decided to eat a few grapes on my way down to check on the chickens, and turkeys. I was thinking I would take them to the birds, then ate them myself, and decided I should at least juice them, and can the juice. What was left after juicing, THAT I would give to the birds
I got a bucket and went out to the vines. Rags kept poking her big head into the bucket, and I had to tell her several times before she quit. After Rags was done, there was Mopsie with her big head in the bucket. Finally I convinced her that was not acceptable behavior, and I was able to pick in peace.
I heard some juicy smacking and slurping nearby, and looked over to see the pair of them eating the bunches of grapes right form the vines.
It reminded me that the year Flash and Binker were pups, I had quite a lot of red Russian kale planted in the back yard, and I would pick a bouquet of it, and holding the stems in my hand, would eat the whole bunch as I wandered around in the garden. Flash and Binker would eat the kale too, plucking it from the plant and chewing it up. They also developed a game of pulling cheeseweed plants right out of the ground, which I thought was pretty good.
Flash still eats kale from the plants, 9 crabby years later.
It is too late to keep the strawberries a secret from Rags, but maybe I should not let her see me picking raspberries, tomatoes, cucumbers, and all my other favorites.