Lucy's Bone Adventure

I am a Christian, and as such, I have never believed in reincarnation. But, after living for two years with Lucy, I'm starting to have my doubts. Maybe the reason why she doesn't act like your standard issue, garden variety Golden Retriever is because she's actually the reincarnation of a teenaged girl from Iowa who died tragically during a shock therapy session gone bad at the State mental hospital in Des Moines. How else to explain the endless variety of quirks? The latest might just be the most bizarre ever...

A couple of weeks ago, Pam came home from the grocery store with a special treat for Lucy. It was her first real bone, and it was a beauty. I mean, this thing was amazing, with dried chunks of real meat hanging off the thing. Both of us hyped this bone to Lucy like it was the greatest thing a dog could ever be given. When we finally gave it to her she went full One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest crazy.

First of all, if I had given any of my previous Golden's such a fine bone they would have immediately sequestered themselves in a corner of the house and spent the next several hours chewing and gnawing away in Canine bliss. Heck, if I had given this bone to Kaitlin's dog, Jackson, he would have turned that thing into a fine powdery mist within an hour. Not our Lucy. No, no, there would be no feast. She picked it up as gingerly as a jeweler would pick up the Hope diamond. Then she walked around the house growling and whining, with the bone hanging from her mouth. After several minutes of this strangeness, she walked over to the back door and sat the bone down on the middle of a towel we had placed on the floor to dry her feet off when she comes in from a trip into the backyard. Then she began pushing the towel around with her nose until the bone was completely covered and hidden. I laughed at her and immediately rescued the bone and began explaining to Lucy the fact that for centuries, these types of bones have been considered haute cuisine by her ancestors. This was nothing to be afraid of...it was for eating. The poor girl looked at me as if I had two heads.

For the next couple of days we would find the bone covered in towels. One night she brought it into bed with us and began trying to bury it under the covers at 3:00 am! We have since found it in a variety of random places, and until recently she had never, as far as we could tell, taken one single bite out of the thing. Finally, a few days ago we noticed that one end of it had been gnawed down an inch or so. Immediately, she began scratching herself for the first time ever. Pam has made the snap diagnosis that she is allergic to the bone, so the bone has been dispatched from our home. Lucy doesn't seem to miss it.