I have three large and well-loved dogs. Two of them are Weimaraners, an intense breed known among its admirers for having some screws loose, or--depending on the dog--missing entirely. The OTHER dog is the naughtiest.
His rap sheet is extensive, and includes the following charges
* breaking and entering
* breaking and exiting
* unauthorized consumption of food and nonfood objects
* impeding a government employee (mailman) in the execution of his duty
* unauthorized execution of doody
Naughtiest. But he has never been interested in the chickens...until yesterday.
Yesterday, while no one was looking, he quickly weaseled his way into the new chicken pasture. When sighted (and up until the time he was "apprehended"), he was standing in the corner of the chicken pasture, eating something off the ground with great relish. Thankfully it was not a chicken...not even an egg....it was polenta. A cornmeal-like substance I had bought for my own kitchen, but never figured out what to do with. I thought the chickens would like it, because they loooove corn, but the chickens were largely indifferent. Their new pasture is open now, filled with plants and weeds and bugs and worms, and they don't have time for my silly kitchen scraps.
"Stupid chickens," thought my dog. "I bet polenta is deeee-lishous. I'm gonna try me some." And he did.
NO ONE TELL HIM where chicken comes from.