Hello. Last night Rachel and I had two baked branzino fish and boiled artichokes. They were splendid. Afterwards, because Rachel is a an insanely rabid devoted and wonderfully fabulous environmentalist, she put the fish carcasses into a small compost bin in the kitchen, to be composted so as to save the planet Earth.
Here is a current photograph of the compost bin.
We took this photograph after Lexi, the Plott Hound, got to it. She dismantled it in order to obtain fish.
Lexi did not merely “obtain” fish. She devoured the mortal remains of two entire one-pound fish, including their heads, spinal columns, ribs, tails, fins and all available guts. She did this in less than one minute, while making dramatic horking sounds which we will try to reproduce here:
Hork Hork Hork Hork.
At this point, Rachel got on the phone, as any sane and responsible person would do at such a time, and texted a message to Africa, which is the place you call where the only skilled and certified veterinarian you know at 9:15 at night is, and which is also, unfortunately, roughly two o’clock in the morning in Lusaka, Zambia. That would be where my daughter, Molly, lives. Molly is also skilled in the problems of human cholera and hemorrhagic fever, which is another matter altogether for a conversation on another day. Our problem at the moment was that we needed to know if Lexi the dog was going to die from intestinal bone perforation.
Probably not, Molly said, unless she did. So we performed a long nighttime vigil, culminating in the conversation above, in the video, between Lexi and Rachel. We can translate Lexi from American Hound Language. It is “No.”
That’s pretty much it for today. Lexi seems fine.
Today’s Gene Pool Gene Poll:
Okay, we talk tomorrow perhaps.
LOVE dogs. I think everyone should have one so that I don't have to.
I have had the right pocket of three different jackets chewed out, each time because I left a dog-training treat in the pocket.