One day on, one day off. That's about how it goes at my house with spurts of ambition. I should have run up to the grocery store for a couple of things, but also needed to go get feed. (Yes, I remembered to bring up the handcart.) The problem was that Bessie loves to go to the feed store, but I wouldn't take her to sit in the truck at the grocery store if I ran both errands on the same trip. Hmmm. Okay, feed store it was. Bessie got her two cookies (milk bones) so she was a happy girl. Believe me, she checks me out before I can get back in the truck. "Cookies! Where are my cookies? Did you get my cookies?" I put her treats on the console and Bess rests her head on them all the way home. We get out of the truck and she turns for the first one. She eats that right then and there, but waits until we get in the house for the second.
This treat business is getting out of hand. Because she so hated getting in the truck when she was a puppy, having only been taken to the House Of Pain for her broken leg, I would reward her with half a lamb-and-rice bar when we got home. She now, of course, expects one of those bars whenever she goes for a ride. No matter that she had just crunched down her cookies, Bessie Anne turns to me, "Mom, I was a good girl. Where is my 'go bye-bye' treat?"
A trip to the feed store, pages and pages of paperwork completed, temperature soaring into the 90s again, and I was done for the off-day. Maybe I'll go to the grocery store today. Or not.