Colt, the yellow Lab, doing what he did best! Yes, he was supposed to have that dead pheasant in his mouth. Good dog!
I read a blog piece this morning about a dog who eats corn. Some would say that’s a tad unusual. And it is. Unusual. Seems this yellow lab, whose name is Drake and resides in Iowa, loves corn. And munches it right off the cob. This is grain corn we’re talking about…dry and hard. Drake must be needing some roughage in his diet. Or perhaps his energy level is low and he’s attempting to boost it a bit with the natural sugar in corn. After all, he can’t eat cake because that sugar is processed/refined. Smart dog, Drake!
Made me think of a story from our family’s archives of the True but Weird Dog Stories. Years ago, our oldest son purchased a yellow Lab for his youngest brother, who dubbed the dog, Colt. Colt was a cutie, all white and fluffy. Everybody loved Colt.
Even when he all but chewed the wood fence down in the back yard. Seriously. This dog/puppy ate everything. Remember the dog story my buddy Lucy aka GrammyJJ shared a while back? That verifies the fact the labs will definitely eat anything.
We kept praying that Colt would quickly grow out of his puppy stage, thus give up the eating of anything that wasn’t nailed down, and sometimes things that were. We were residing in LaLaLand. Nobody told us that Labs do this. It is their mission in life (well, the first year of their life anyway) to eat and chew up everything in sight we were told by the “experts”, way too late.
But we persevered, scolding sweet Colt for eating the fence, disciplining him after killing every chicken on the place and threatening him within an inch of his sorry dog life when we discovered water dishes, plants, wire fences, etc. destroyed. Eventually he did grow up and became probably the best hunting dog we had in our kennel.
We were sure we finally had overcome Colt’s puppy and teenager years and were on the road to civility. Oldest son told us he was a born hunter. He was good. He was valued and valuable. He was The Dog our hunters asked for. Everytime.
Then, one day, I decided to purchase some of those half wood barrels things that you plant geraniums and stuff in. Our front porch is long and has 9 cedar posts holding up the roof overhang. So I thought it would look cool to put one in front of every other post. so I positioned 5 of them, hauled potting soil (it took tons!) and planted my flowers. Wow, looked great! Why didn’t I do that a long time ago?
But my flowers weren’t thriving, so I fertilized them and watered them and talked to them. This was another chapter of my Gardening in Kansas 101 education. Anyway, back to my barrels…nothing seemed to be working. Then one day, I checked the level of the potting soil closely and something smelled really bad in that barrel. I looked closer. Holy cow! It was poop. Dog poop to be exact. How in the world…..?
I lined all of the boys up that night and said, “Ok, I know you think it’s a scream to put dog poop in my barrels but it better stop. And quick!” They all looked at each other like I had lost my mind, which wasn’t far off. Then, they started giggling. Nobody confessed. They thought it was funny!? I informed all three that somebody had better come clean or huge trouble loomed over their possible short lives. Still, nothing. I threatened to post a spy cam to catch the culprit. They had a long talk with BB about the possibility of sending me to a home. I was mad, aggravated and bewildered. This was not only gross but killing my plants FOR PETE’S SAKE. Give. Me. A. Break. I could just picture one of my offspring following a dog around the farm, waiting for…well, you know, then scooping it up and sneaking into the yard with said poop and plopping it into my flowers. Now, that was weird!!!! What was WRONG with these kids?!!
The next day same thing. More poop. I noted the time of day. I wrote down the temperature highs and lows for the day. I looked for tracks. I was determined.
The next day, I was ready. I watched my barrels like a hawk. And suddenly, Colt trotted through the yard, looked around, sniffed the grass a bit and I thought, “NO! Don’t do it right in the front yard. You have the entire farm to do this. I have enough poop to deal with….!” Wait. Watch. Wait for it. Holy Cow.
That dog backed up to my barrel and proceeded to do his business right on top of my beloved geraniums. I kid you not. I have never seen anything so hilarious in all my life. HE was the culprit!!! Mystery solved.
I have no proof, you’ll just have to take my word for it. I mean, you want weird? How unhinged would it be to photograph a dog doing such a thing. That my friend, is WEIRD!!