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Canine cunning

On Saturday I planted some bulbs.

Half an hour later, I found that Jed had dug up every single last cotton-picking one of them. He had also gnawed a few. I’m seriously thinking about giving the little bugger away. Do let me know if you can think of any bad homes. 

Most of Jed’s brain is given over to determining the digestible qualities of potential foodsources and figuring out how to get on the sofa without being smacked. However, there must be a portion of his brain – cold, manipulative, devastatingly calculating, chilling in its canine cunning, small perhaps yet brilliant in its powers of deduction and reasoning capacity – that, when he sees me planting bulbs, thinks . . .



Comments on: "Canine cunning" (3)

  1. mumsie said:

    No comment can make justice to your brilliant tribute to Jed and his brainpower. If the UK quarantine laws weren’t so fierce I’d offer him that bad home.

  2. deadlyjelly said:

    I usually forgive him pretty fast 😀 Even with the bulbs, he’s so chuffed with himself, sitting there guarding his spoils, going: “Hey! Look what I found! In the ground! Can you believe it?” that it’s impossible not to laugh.


  3. mumsie said:

    Don’t I know it. I’m just back from staying with friends in Dorset, doing dogsitting, oven-cleaning etc. to free Val a bit while Richard is in hospital. The dog, a 2 year old white boxer who goes by the name of Bertie often had me in stiches.


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