Tough Sled Dog....Not

Another tough sled dog story....I know I shared with some privately but, well, what the heck. Hazy isn't at all bothered to be a FORMERLY tough sled dog. Two nights ago, I found some almost stale buns and gave them to the dogs. Hazy couldn't make up her mind where to light to eat her's, so she's running back and forth and back and forth, then just sorta plops down on her rear in the front room facing me, the bun hanging outta her mouth like a cigar. She is such a big blonde, loveable goof.

About that time, Foxy, big tough Sheltie wuss that she is, not to mention less than half Hazy's size, is walking past her to get to me. Amiga was already off to the bedroom with her bun. Smooth as you like, as she walks past Hazy, Foxy reaches over and bites off the end of Hazy's hot dog bun -- you have to realize Foxy would kill for croissants and bread ranks right up there with her, even stale bread -- and just keeps walking over to me.

The look on Hazy's face was, "What the....Did she really just do what I think she did?" which, gotta admit, I was thinking, too. I honestly don't think it was diabolically plotted, either, just too easy of pickings as she walked past and couldn't resist one extra bite of her nirvana food, bread.

So, I guess it's been determined, the wuss of a Sheltie is alpha dog in this house, tho' she does it so cleverly the other two don't have a clue. Hazy is, however, murder on feather dusters! That's another story, tho'.

June