I’m Not About to Cook Eggs for a Dog!

          My aunt had a Scottish Terrier when she was ten years old – or perhaps Heather was a family dog.  I barely remember the pet dog.  

I of course don't have a picture of Heather
but copied the photo from this site:

Grandma and Grandpa had planned to take my aunt to Europe and had asked mom and dad to house sit while they were gone. Taking care of Heather was part of the deal.

          My mom had not grown up with pets nor seemed fond of them.  Grandpa had left instructions and told my mom that Heather needed to have two fried eggs each morning.  Mom said there was no way she was going to fix eggs for a dog and so my dad made the eggs for Heather each morning during their stay.

          Whenever Roland cooks eggs for the dog I always think of that experience that mom had shared with me.  For the most part Bonnie will get scrambled eggs rather than fried eggs – except this morning.  I fried up the white part but the yolks were still runny when I put them in Bonnie’s bowl.

          As I have mentioned in previous posts, there is a slew of fowl who come into our yard and expect to get fed.  This morning they were following me around like I was a magnet and they were all made of steel.  

The owners told us that if we ever find eggs we can keep them – which we probably would have done anyway.  We did not know they were roosting right beneath our deck.  Roland sends Jenna out every morning to gather what she can find.  The first time she found 24 but because we didn’t know how old they were, Bonnie got them all.  

The two that Bonnie ate this morning were dropped before they made it into the house – hence why Bonnie got them instead of us.  We don’t give her eggs often. Roland purchased a bunch of chicken organs for Bonnie when he and Jenna were in Grants Pass last night.  Dogs enjoy eating hearts and livers.  They seem to give Bonnie energy.