I had an unusual childhood. The front room of our house was a candy shop for kids from the high school, which was just across the street. We had a juke box, and I can remember opening our kitchen door to see girls dancing, their long skirts twirling. I can still see my mom and dad behind the candy case. Candy bars were 5 or 10 cents, I think, and we had so much candy that I could have sneaked in there at night and stolen something now and then, but I don't believe I ever did.
At our puppy meeting on Thursday we tried something new. We took the puppies into PetSmart and let them sniff and investigate to their heart's content for about 10 minutes (like a kid in a candy store).
|Toys and more toys.|
Of course there is every imaginable temptation at Petsmart, visual and odiferous. Fussy toys, plastic toys, rubber toys, birds and hamsters, entire rows of bagged food, treats large and small, each with its own scent signature.
|Too many toys, way too many|
I thought for sure that Dewey would find something irresistible, something to pick up with his mouth. How could he not?
|A fuzzy toy is just begging to be picked up.|
But he never mouthed a toy or licked a bag of food. The only thing he picked up was a small doggie bed, and this was only because the bed was tucked away under a shelf and Dewey wanted to get a better look.
|Dewey is sniffing a doggie bed. He pulled it out to get a better look.|
And OK, maybe I did take a Butterfinger bar from our store once. Just once, though, and only because I thought it had a funny name.