I was out of town visiting a friend after doing my monthly grocery shopping. We watched a movie. Zen stays in the van, as it is his home away from home. I will take a break, let him out to potty, and throw a ball for him to stretch his legs.
This particular day, I figured that he might enjoy munching his favorite treat: a fresh, raw carrot. I pulled a nice size one from my grocery bag and took it inside to clean it. Yeah, he has me well trained...you think?
I asked my friend for a knife, scraped the carrot, took it outside, and gave it to Zen.
When I left for home, I noticed that he had not eaten it. So, when we returned home, I took it inside and put it down for him. Checking later, I noticed that he still hadn’t eaten it. Hmm, this is strange I pondered. Is he tired, what is going on since he LOVES this treat?
I picked up the carrot and noticed that I did not get it fully cleaned, as it still had patches of skin still on it. I took it to the kitchen and scraped it this time with my knife. When I then held it out for Zen, he took it immediately from my hand and scarfed it down.
I conclude it was just not a good enough cleaning job for his palette. Or, perhaps my friend’s knife did not do the same job as the one I use. Which did not meet Zen’s approval. Yes, indeed, the dog has me well trained. DUH! LOL!
And, this morning, I was cleaning another carrot and put it down on the counter to pick up my cup of coffee when a single drop of coffee spilled on the carrot. Not a big deal right? Wrong, Zen took one smell of it, as I held it out for him to take it and he just turned and walked away. So, I washed off the coffee, called him and he came back… smelled it, took it from my hand, and devoured it.
And then yesterday.
Zen chases a tennis ball from a “Chuckit” I use. His bite destroys a tennis ball pretty fast. Friends and neighbors, from time to time, will drop off a ball or two on the driveway side-lawn for him.
Yesterday, I threw the ball down the hill and proceeded to walk toward the forest. Zen caught up with me and dropped the ball at my feet. I thought to myself, “Wow, I don’t remember it being that clean and a bright yellow color.”
I put two and two together when we got back to our driveway, because there laying on the lawn, is the original ball that I had thrown for Zen which is dirty, well worn, and a pretty chewed up tennis ball.
Zen had discovered the nice new, clean one that someone had left for him, and exchanged it, on his way to catch up with me. I never saw it there when I walked pass.
The moral to this story or definitely a message for me, is that my dog is definitely teaching me:
GO FOR THE BEST IN LIFE!”