The Other Guest

The Thanksgiving gathering included a guest I neglected to mention.  Honey, Camille's German shepherd, was very much a part of the party.  Our ritual greeting always begins with a trip to the milk-bone box; Bessie is included.  Bessie Anne is as good a hostess as one could find anywhere.  She is tolerant and generous, rarely vying for attention as Honey makes the rounds.  As humans settle in for conversation, Honey casually lies down with a front leg on either side of Bessie's food dish.  "Hmm hmm hmm (she hums).  Oh!  What's this?  A bowl of perfectly good food going to waste."  Like picking chocolates out of a box, she selects one kibble at a time.  That dish empty, she strolls over to Bess's milk bowl, hoping for some leftovers and giving it an extra good cleaning, just in case.  The room is large, but the cook top and work island make mine a two-butt kitchen.  Bess has learned to position herself out of the way; Honey, not s'much.  Both dogs (and all the men) close in while the turkey is carved.  So many tidbits are handed out, it's a wonder there is enough left to put on the table.  Bessie Anne and Honey are well-behaved girls and neither would beg in the dining room.  Having had her fill of the bird, Honey preempted Bess's couch, stretched out, and let the tryptophan take over.  I laughed as I walked through the room later as Honey had moved over to Bessie's dog bed.  It was a size-20 trying to fit into a size-6.  After the last guest left, I started picking up the toys that Honey had rooted out of the toy basket.  Struck by a thought, I looked under the cushion in Pearl's bed.  Pearl makes herself scarce when Honey visits.  With no Guard Cat On Duty, need I say it?  The treasured chunk of milk bone was...gone.