By Patsy R. Brumfield/NEMS Daily Journal
Have you ever been afraid your pet might be looking at you as a snack? Grandpup Bonnie recently expanded her dietary interests and it’s created a potential problem.
Of course, Miss Bon is a “cutie,” but it’s those Cuties she’s become interested in – you know, those little orange clementines, tangerine-like citrus all wrapped up in pretty little orange mesh bags at the grocery store.
It barely would have occurred to me to offer Bonnie a wedge, but many years ago, my sister’s peekapoo, Christian, absolutely loved the things. She’d nearly tear your arm off to get to a sweet piece.
So, I thought, well, maybe Cavalier Bonnie might try one, just for a new source of Vitamin C and some natural yum.
Indeed, as we sat watching college football this past weekend, she watched me carefully peel the little guy. It smelled good, and she seemed interested.
I handed her a small, cool wedge, and she cautiously reeled it into her mouth. Ooh, cold, weird, her expression said to me.
Then, she gave it another lick, then another, and pop! into her mouth.
She flinched a little from the juicy mouth explosion, but she apparently liked it enough to show interest in another. No way, I said in a grandmotherly tone. The rest is Nana’s.
Now, I’m a little concerned about my safety.
This time of year, we all crank up the shower heat just a bit and wind up with itchy skin. So, I reached into the cabinet for a moisturizer.
When I discovered old standby wasn’t there, I compromised for a fancier choice. Problem is, it smells like peaches.
Bonnie seems to think I’m a walking snack.
My friend Pamela can sympathize because Bonnie fairly licks her silly when presented the opportunity. Pamela apparently wears delicious moisturizer, too.
And so, when the fruity aroma wafts from the living room couch at night, Bonnie fairly salivates for that one yummy morsel.
Next morning, she eyes me greedily as another fruity flavor permeates the air.
Thanks goodness Miss Bonnie is small enough that I could fight her off, if she ever really wanted to nip me for dessert.
I’d probably have sufficient strength to reach for the cell phone and dial 911, if necessary.
But what, oh what, would I say when the dispatcher asked about my emergency situation?
Would he or she think I was a prankster to say a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel was convinced my peachy fragrance was an invitation to the buffet?
We older folks must take our health very seriously. I cannot dismiss the possibility that I might pass as a turnover to my hungry grandpuppy.
And so, I’m off to the corner drug store for a winter-skin solution that smells like something much less appetizing.
But, no doubt, a winter-forest ankle must come with its own attractions.
Patsy R. Brumfield writes a Thursday column. Contact her at email@example.com.