Just a few minutes ago I was fishing out some pickled lemon peels, Middle East style, when the critters came tumbling and stumbling into the kitchen to see what I was up to. They know that if they hang around my feet while I'm preparing food, some of it often escapes my grasp and heads for the floor. It never makes it, of course, because something or someone is always ready to snatch it before the other two can get it.
I wondered how they'd like this rather strong-flavored delicacy, so I let several small pieces slip through my fingers. They never hit the floor; Pudge, Fancypants, and Gramps each caught and scarfed a large portion. They immediately regretted their rash behaviour, however, and ran to Momma for comfort.
Patty had no idea what had happened, and I didn't think it was worth mentioning. I heard her say, "Mac, what the heck are you grinning at? I hate a grinning dog. You never grinned before, so you just stop it right. . .Samantha! You, too? And Cherokee! What on Earth. . .Why do you all have those idiot. . .DAVE!"
"What?" Innocently, I thought.
'What have these fool animals been eating? You must have given them something; what was it?"
"Just some pickled lemon peel, Honey."
I walked into the living room and looked. All three critters had these big, goofy grins, because they couldn't get their mouths to close after eating that lemon peel.
Sure looks cheerful in there; now even Patty's grinning.