good eatin'

Augie and Tilly were treated to a full check-up today at the vet's office.

I thought they'd be excited about the break from their usual routine, but they proved me wrong. Augie whined like a newborn and Tilly shimmied out of her collar in the parking lot, then challenged me to a footrace.

Once inside, their adventure included a round of shots and what the bashful technician vaguely referred to as a rectal exam.

I felt a little guilty on the drive home and decided they deserved a treat. So I pulled off at the local meat market and asked if they had any scrap bones.

"We sell them for $3," a surly worker replied.

Seemed like a lot to pay for someone's trash, but I handed over the money. It was a rare extravagance and the dogs would probably get an hour's enjoyment out of the feast.

Several minutes later, a worker came out hefting a huge, bloody box that he flopped into the front seat of my van. Inside were the most massive bones I'd ever seen. They were dripping with scraps of flesh and utterly repulsive.

When we got home, Augie made off with something that looked like a spinal column. Tilly delicately nibbled at a pelvis.

The box was too heavy for me to lift, so I wrapped up the bones in individual packages and put them in the garage freezer.

The neighbors probably wondered what I was up to with all those large, bloody bones. Too bad Todd's not out of town for a few days; I'd like to keep them guessing.

Augie, our gentle and timid lapdog, reacts to the suggestion that he share his portion of bloody ribcage.

"This beats my usual grub," Tilly says.