Warning: Some of this could cause that "queasy" feeling.
The first time I saw our Emma-dog was when she was a young mama. She is a silky-terrier, and her owners had bred her and were selling her precious little fluffy-ball puppies. We already had enough dogs in our home, but I certainly enjoyed seeing those cuties!
Fast-forward about 5 years. My friend, who does my hair and has for many years, wanted to find a home for Emma; I still don't quite know why, and I had forgotten all about Emma. I asked if she was an outside dog, as our old dog, Buster, seemed a little sad lately, and I thought he might enjoy company. I drove out to the country ( I live in a country neighborhood, but this was the REAL thing.) to check her out, and there I found a little ragmuffin-looking dog OUTSIDE and chewing on a deer leg. Thus, the "outside dog" question was answered: Emma definitely was one. I said we would take her. Owner said they would "clean her up, cut her hair, and bring her out on Sunday."
Sure enough, that Sunday afternoon, the family arrived with Emma in tow, but she looked NOTHING like the wild little thing I had seen with the deer leg. She was PRECIOUS! Coach looked at me as I "o-o-h-d and ah-h-d" with her in my arms and muttered, "So, this is an outside dog?" We-l-l. That was over a year ago, and she's hardly been outside ALONE or without WATCHFUL EYES in all that time. She's a wonderful, playful little family dog, and Coach loves her too, even though he would never say LOVE about a pet! Of course, as the saying goes, "You can take a dog out of the country, but you can't take, blah, blah, blah. "
We are in a country neighborhood. Everyone around us hunts. Deer happen, and when you have dogs, deer parts usually make their decrepid way into the yard. Today, on one of Emma's trips outside, she stayed longer than usual. I heard her little "scratch, scratch" on the door, opened it, and there was a proud little dog with a really GROSS DEER LEG, including hoof, IN HER MOUTH, trying to get it in the door! NO! NO! NO! and she dropped it and came in, smelling pretty gamey indeed. She kept hanging around the door, sniffing and thinking about that yucky deer leg. Soon, a plan formed in this devious brain. If I let her out the back door, I could grab that leg, throw it in a garbage bag, and problem SOLVED. So, I emptied some cleaning supplies out of a plastic bag, called Emma, who was MORE than EXCITED to be going outside again...she knew EXACTLY where she would go...straight to the LEG! I worried, could I make it to the front door before she did? So, with my hand in the sack, glove-like... oh-my-gosh, it's thin! I let her out, slammed the door, and ran like a crazy woman through the house, opened the front door, aha, she hadn't made it yet, grabbed up that yucky, kind-of too ripe feeling leg with the now MUCH TOO THIN grocery sack, had forgotten a trash bag so had to HOLD the darn thing while I got other bag from kitchen and opened with one hand. (ARGH! the thing has been in my KITCHEN!!!!) threw it in and ran to the screen porch to go to garbage can. NO! They are still out at the ROAD! Gagging, I dumped the bag with-a-leg-inside beside the door, ran in and scalded my hands for about five minutes! Then I heard that familiar little "scratch,scratch" at the door and let Emma back in. She sniffed the air, looking accusingly at me, for several minutes before settling down for her afternoon nap. I felt SICK. Fortunately, I had just brewed some peppermint tea sweetened with honey. I think peppermint tea and crackers are about all I will want for the rest of this deer-Emma day.