I bought Shane a package of  Busy Bones by Purina; the company calls them chewnola and says they consist of layers of goodness. Shane would agree. Two bones come per package, but last night no bones (new ones) were in the house because I goofed up and left the little Wal-Mart bag that held my prescription and the chewy sticks in the front seat of the car.

You can see right there that Busy Bones are a high-priority for me – right up there with the medicine that keeps my head from exploding. I put that bag in the car interior so it would not be jumbled up in the stuff in the trunk, which has a lot in it – and nothing in an organized position. Were I to murder someone, I would have to put the body in the back seat because there is no way one would fit in the trunk, but that’s another issue.

Anyway, this morning I went to take my medicine and I remembered putting it next to me on the front seat – with the precious Busy Bones; I went out, got the bag, took my medicine and put the bag beside me, forgetting about it. And then the dog started staring at me. He just sat there with this little smile on his face, staring. I didn’t know if he wanted me to do something or not – Miss Alice would come and get me to open the blinds in an upstairs bedroom so she could lie on a bed and keep watch on the neighborhood. But staring Shane didn’t have anything in his routine that was amiss and I gave him a pat on the head and told him to go find a place to nap. He went off and then he was back, staring. Staring intently to the side of me.

Yes, he could smell the Busy Bones through the sealed plastic wrapper; he knew they were there in their wrapper inside a Wal-Mart bag. I actually sniffed the wrapper myself *; I didn’t get the aroma of anything. But he had and so, of course, I gave him one.

I would not want to walk down the aisles of a grocery store with him; but then we would only walk so far – such as to the meat counter or where the rotisserie chickens are turning on a spit – and he would be staring and staring and staring. Maybe going crazy.

We do take him into PetSmart, which in retrospect may not be that kind. All those Wubbas and treats – not to mention the kittens and other animals. On two or three of the early times in there, he would . . . uh, lose control of a bodily function – even after a pre-store walk. It got so when Summer and I went alone, I asked her which one of us was going to take up the slack for Shane’s not being there to carry on tradition. I know; that was crude.

I guess I will take the remaining Busy Bone and put it back in the car. That’s probably not as good an idea as I first thought, because he KNOWS there are two bones to a package.  He knows the smell of the other one should be in the house, so will he think, “She’s so mean I should chew her shoe.”  (Now where does the question mark punctuation go in that construction? I have to read up on this, although I’ll need to get an older reference source because the new ones are so “whatever”. (OOOH, did we hit on one of AmeliaJake’s pet peeves there? Could be.)

I’ve got to get going here – literally. Yesterday the washer was fixed and I ran loads until I felt I should just throw myself in the spin cycle and be done with it. I need to get away on the first of MAY before I get TAGGED  again. I know; it’s corny. Even I am groaning.

* Yes, this is a characteristic thing for AJ to do.