Sunday with the human man

The human woman went away for a few hours this afternoon to attend some “rescue” function. If anyone needed rescued, it would be the human woman, but apparently nobody adopted her.

With her out of the way, we were able to spend Sunday with the human man, who is recovering from his cold, but is recovering to the point where he doesn’t carelessly leave used kleenex laying around... darn the luck.

We started off with the usual game of “I want out, then in, then out, then in, then out, then in, then out...” I really need to come up with a better name than that some day. Around hour 2 he was wheezing up and down the stairs, much to our delight.

As the human woman already fed us before she left, and told the human man that she fed us (female dog), we couldn’t convince him that we were starving to death and needed some yummy food. We tried, we got all fluffy, we looked all pouty, we hovered around his legs while he prepared himself some tasty foods... ok, maybe not so tasty foods. It seems that he doesn’t know how to work the new microwave food safe.

We think he was trying to make nachos. A pretty basic recipe that even dogs know because the main ingredient is shredded cheese, always a favorite. Take corn chips, sprinkle cheese on them, put in microwave food safe for 30 seconds, and piping hot, drippy cheese tasties. I think it was the smoke that clued him in that something was amiss, although the Mutatoe’s shrill yapping should have been an early warning.

Ever the quick thinker when on cold medicine, the human man decided that he couldn’t toss the smoking pile of molten charred chips into the trash, so he threw them into a thin plastic bowl to cool off. I’m sure you all know where this is going, and no... we didn’t get them because we have much better taste than to eat charred molten hunk of congealed plastic.

With the distinct aroma of melting plastic and burnt corn chips permeating the house, we continued to drive the human man insane until the human woman arrived back home, at which point we greeted her as though she had been gone for years, not 3 hours. Per our internal alarm clocks, once the human woman comes home, that means its dinner time, regardless of what hour that is. While she may have thought we were happy to see her again because she is kind and nice and combs us and lets us have most of the bed... well yeah, but we actually wanted food.

“What is that smell?”

Yep, the molten lump of cheese, charred chips and melted plastic still sat on the stove “cooling”. She was nice and asked if the human man was actually saving that for later before tossing the whole thing in the trash. Then, even though it was earlier than normal, she fed us, like a good human woman. She’s so trained... we need to work on the human man some more, although we are amused by his high pitched keening noise and the way he pulls his hair out of his head.