Last week I let the dogs out into the backyard to busy busy for the last time of the evening. Bingo took a little jaunt out into the bushes and when he came back it was clear there was something in his mouth.
"Drop it." He did. He's very good at dropping it and out plops this chicken wing. Not a hot wing with meat still on it, but a chicken wing bone, no meat on it all. "Good boy!" I pick up the nasty chicken bone and look into the dark of the back yard and think to myself, "What in the great good night is a chicken wing doing in my back yard?"
The next night, I let the dogs out to do their busy, busy and what do you know? Bingo brings back ANOTHER chicken wing! OMG! Now, I'm incensed. I look into the dark of the backyard and I see the porchlight of our backyard neighbors and it hits me. Our neighbors are eating chicken wings and throwing them over the fence. I narrow my eyes and glare at their porch light. Don't they know what chicken bones can do to dog? How many wings are in my back yard? I'm going to have to do a wing search and ferret out all the chicken bones those cretins have tossed over their shoulder without a care in the world. I can picture it now. Sitting by their pool, big bowl of wings, lawn chairs backing up to the fence, wing goes in their gaping maw of a mouth, then flip, over the fence where my unsuspecting puppy snarfs it up only to be told to Drop It.
I should eat a big bowl of wings and start flipping them into their pool and see how they like those bones! But that seems kind of gross and unhygenic and I think they have children and what if that creates some weird sort of bacteria in the pool? That might result in a House episode that ends up sending me to prison for making children ill with a potentially life threatening bacteria all because my neighbors didn't want to get a trashcan for their wings. Sounds a bit silly. I'll have to think out this revenge thing a bit more.
So I pondered. And pondered.
This morning Fred brought in another bone Bingo had found. Fred said it was clearly the leg of a wild bird that had died. Fred thinks that a wild bird died in our yard, decomposed naturally and Bingo found the bones and was bringing them in to us, one at a time, leaving the neighbors blameless.
I guess I should forgive our neighbors. They might even be vegetarians for all I know. Turns out Mother Nature is to blame. I don't think I can get revenge on her.