Yesterday was Veterans’ Day – a Big Picture Day. My maternal grandfather and my father were both Marines. Everett was Air Force. All three served during wars. We visited the Florida National Cemetery for Veterans yesterday and paid our respects. Big Picture. Private feelings.
Today is 11-12-13. Now that’s a small detail kind of day that I can write about. As you may have noticed, our plans to visit Gettysburg on our way south for the winter were altered by the advancing cold front, and our desire to be well below the snow line before having to deal with actual snow. We still took our time getting to our winter base, stopping to smell the camel, etc. Dear Auntie says we’re the only folks she knows who take a month to make the 3-day drive from New England to Florida – though she admits we do see a great deal more of interest our way. We’ve come back to the wonderful little RV park we stayed in last spring and have spent a week renewing acquaintances with year-round residents and placing bets on which of the other snowbirds will be the next to arrive. Major excitement as I’m sure you’ll agree.
The oddity of today’s date got me thinking about small stuff. Like Tyler Dog’s One Kibble Mystery. It’s been going on for quite some time and has become one of those things one notices as being of some mystic importance. The dog is an American Cocker Spaniel, medium sized, of placid temperament, and regular habits. His day-to-day schedule runs to: wake up, scratch vigorously, go out to pee, eat breakfast, nap, take a walk, nap, look out the windows to be sure all is right with the world, nap, eat dinner, take another walk, nap, go out for a last pee, go to bed. Meals consist of 1/3 cup of kibble for breakfast and 1/3 cup of kibble with a spoonful of leftover “people food” for dinner. Tyler is an eager eater and most meals do not last more than a few seconds from bowl touchdown to completion. But invariably – and I mean EVERY time – he leaves a single kibble uneaten. Not that he simply doesn’t eat it. Nope, every time – every single meal – he manages to leave one lone kibble floating in his water bowl where it swells up and bobs in the current.
In the years we’ve lived with him, we’ve never actually seen how the task is accomplished. But after every meal, day in and day out, we have to clear his water bowl of one soggy kibble. Is he making an offering to some doggie God? Sacrificing a mouthful to atone for best forgotten sins? Is it a test to be sure that the meal is safe before proceeding? How does a creature with a brain the size of a lemon manage this ritual every day with just ONE kibble – never more than one, but always one? What mysteries do YOUR pets promote?