No M&M's for Don Quixote

Yesterday, I found some M&M's—I guess they were left over from Halloween. The package had been sitting out on the coffee table with no one claiming them the entire first two weeks of November, so I felt I'd be doing everyone a favor by removing it from temptation. Out of sight; out of mind, I always say. By, the way, the bag was the so-called "fun size," so all you humans who think dogs will die if they eat chocolate can just forget about it, because fun size is just another way of saying "not much."

Anyway, I ripped open the bag and the all sorts of green, blue, yellow, and red M&M candy treats rolled everywhere—under the couch, across the floor into the bedroom, under the chair, all over the red living room rug, and one even rolled under the refrigerator. Of course, that's the one Shane had to have. You should have seen him hunched up against the refrigerator with his big black snout shoved up against the floor, his pink tongue darting into the dark underbelly of the white mammoth, desperately trying to retrieve one lousy candy. He was so fixated on getting it, he didn't notice me as I calmly lapped up everything with my long slow tongue.

That's so Shane. I've tried to tell him that some things just aren't worth pursuing, but he puts his paws over his ears and fixes his black-rimmed gaze on the impossible. That dumb M&M is never going to roll itself out from under the refrigerator into his big old salivating mouth. Chocolate's a lot like an old lover; you can chase after it all you like, but it ain't going to do anything but shrivel and sweat under the hot sun—or refrigerator motor. Shane never got his M&M, but he did eat the empty bag. Sometimes, I really feel for him. He's like Don Quixote, but without the armor.

During our walk, a bunch a kids hugged me and told me I was a pretty love bug. They realize that Shane would rather not get slobbered over in quite the same way. One of the kids said that Shane was the bad dog, but another kid corrected him and told him that Shane just has some problems. Now, there's insight for you.

But, just then, one of the little kids let out this horrendous piercing scream because I had drooled on his hand. That scared Shane, and he actually tried to lunge for the screamer's sister. It's a good thing Joan keeps him on a short leash. Actually, he bit Joan's hand by mistake. It's not a big deal, but it could have been. Some dogs get shook up so easily. I try to tell Shane that a dog's life is too short to waste on fear of screams, but he just gets huffy and says I don't get it.

Best Wishes from Juno