We 'chons only got once vice. Okay, okay. I steal cheese, have a 137 decibel ear-shattering bark and tease my sister unmercifully. Other than that, I've got just one vice. CRAPSICLES.
You poor humans got no idea how enticing, how mesmerizing, how delicious crap smells after it freezes. The bouquet just blossoms in the cold. And while my stupid sister simply rolls in frozen crap ("Just a little behind the ears!"), I prefer to bring it into the house to fully explore the joys of shitsicles at my leisure.
I dunno why that makes Mommy freak out! I can't tell you how many times she's shrieked, "Drop it, drop it, drop it!"
Then there was the time she didn't notice it in my mouth 'til after I got back in the house. Did I mention Mommy is terribly near-sighted without her glasses? Anyways, when she shrieked "Drop it!", I dutifully dropped that delicious-smelling frozen shitsicle on the carpet. And she picked it up!
You shoulda' been there! It took a second before she realized she was holding frozen shit in her bare hand and let out a blood-curdling scream. I was ROTFL when she flung open front door and threw that yummy-smelling shitsicle as far as she could. It was all I could do to keep a straight face while she scolded me. Wag, wag, wag. I got my clean-freak Momma to pick up shit!!
What bichon doesn't adore cheese? To a bichon, cheese is the nectar and ambrosia of the gods. Bichon heaven is a golden fire hydrant on every corner and a block of colby in every food dish.
On the day of the Great Cheese Caper, I was just a wittle puppy. Mommy was downstairs doing the laundry, but I'd scampered upstairs and was all alone.
And there it was. Golden. Glowing. So yummy. I sniffed it a bit, licked it a bit, looked over my shoulder to check for Mommy. Then sunk my teeth into it.
And it was so delicious. Bite after bite. Gnawing off great hunks, swallowing them as fast as I could. Feeling deliciously naughty.
I'd scarfed 1/4th of the block by the time Mommy came upstairs and grabbed it away...covered with teeth marks...missing big chunks...covered in carpet fuzz. Of course, I got a good scolding although Mommy was laughing way too hard to make me feel too guilty.
To this day, I adore cheese. If I may be allowed to paraphrase Sir Walter Scott:
Breathes there a bichon,
with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath stolen,
A block of colby cheese so golden!
Hi! Delly here! I'm a bichon frise. My mommy says I'm crazy, eccentric and hilarious. These are my doodles. WOOF!