Chase is at the office. He has paced ever since we arrived because he has a piece of dried trachea. It’s healthy and it helps keep his teeth clean. He loves the trachea. However, today he doesn’t want to chew on it — at least not now — so he is looking for a place to store his prize. He has (so far) hidden it under a pile of magazines — put the trachea down and then pushed the magazines over on it, under the computer wires under the desk, between the cushions of the loveseat, wrapped in the pad in the crate I keep here, rolled in the little rug in the bathroom, under a bookcase, behind the dog bed. Not one of those places has been satisfactory, so he continues to pace looking for the perfect hiding spot. It doesn’t really matter where he puts it because tomorrow Holmes is the Office Dog. He will promptly find the prize and chew it up. Take that, Chase!
I almost forgot to mention that this morning when putting the coffee away, a dozen or so beans spilled onto the kitchen floor. Chase immediately vacuumed them up — perhaps I’m seeing a caffeine high.