One evening after work, I stopped by PetCo for the usual run of dog and/or cat food (Wet. For mature kitties. Chunks and gravy NOT minced, so help you.) As I got out of my car, I heard a man call, “Patty! Patty, slow down!”I looked up to see a sweet little border collie, running gleefully down the sidewalk with a floppy toy in her mouth, her owner not far behind. They looked for all the world like a child running with her favorite teddy bear to the toy store, harried father in tow.
Patty did not slow down; she galloped straight through the automatic doors of PetCo and out of sight. I somehow got between her and her dad, and wanted desperately to know what she was so excited to see. As I entered the store, I spied her floppy toy, abandoned on the cold linoleum.
I passed the toy, looking down each aisle for a glimpse of Patty’s stumpy rump, when I finally found her–standing at attention, father and floppy toy forgotten, her focus directed in a nearly-visible concentrated beam at her goal.
Delicious, delicious guinea pigs.
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