Treasure Hunt

If you don't like dogs, go read something else.

Right, everybody cozy? So Leeann and Dan were over for dinner, and of course we were wandering around the garden with wine in hand, and I was apologizing for the - ahem - whiffy-ness in the garden beds, and explaining while I am happy Ally has finally learned to do her business outside, I wish she would do it a bit farther from the outdoor dining room. And not in the areas where I plunge my hands into the soil. And Leeann told me about The Treasure Hunt.

Her friend had a similar problem and it was leaving brown spots on her lawn. So every day she'd take a big handful of kibble, yell "Treasure hunt!" and fling the kibble across the lawn. Dogs won't do their business where they eat, so problem solved.

Ally and I have been going out with treats (yeah, she's spoiled) at first every morning (altho since she's begun to nag while I'm having breakfast I'm mixing up the time) and having a treasure hunt. And the last few days when I've gone out to have breakfast in the garden, or a glass of wine at night, I've noticed something missing. A distinctive and unpleasant odor is gone. I can smell the jasmine and the roses...and the wine.

I don't know where she's going now, and like the parent of an unpleasant teenager said, "I don't care! It's not my problem." Come to think of it, that's what the unpleasant teenager said too.

So please excuse me, I'm taking my tea and toast out into the garden. And I will stop and smell the roses. Finally.