It’s our first cold rainy day. Just a miserable drizzling, cold (to me) gray day. Carson got to nudging me, first over the arm of my recliner, then he walked around and laid his head in my lap. He does this when he wants outside or if it is time to eat. It’s getting close to feeding time, sometimes he tries to move the time up. But maybe he needed to go potty.
I asked if he wanted to go outside. I went to the door, opened it and turned around. No Carson. Gone. Hiding.

I called him, saying outside. He came slinking out of the hallway, trying to sneak to the kitchen with the look of a severely punished dog on his face. Like he could crouch down, I wouldn’t see his big ol’ self and he could go hide in the kitchen. Oh! That funny dog!
I shut the door, laughing and he came to me, relief all over his face. Hilarious.
He’s been tormented all day with smells of chicken in the crockpot. I’ve deboned it, chopped it and put it back in the crockpot with chopped carrots. I turned it off to let it cool, it’s dog chicken. The dogs will get spoons of chicken, carrots and broth over their kibble, for this week.
Guess I’ll feed this poor mistreated dog and the Anatolians now.