The trouble with bones

Since it's already a big day for most kiddos, I decided it was only appropriate that Sis get to have a fresh, cooked, bone, in the backyard to enjoy this gorgeous weather.  She immediately tried to bring it back inside via her doggie door until she saw me standing there, waiting for her.  Once she spied me, she turned her l-o-n-g self around and headed out to the patio to chew.

The rule is you have to stay outside with your greasy bone until it's no longer greasy; then your green-lighted to bring it inside.  It's now clean as a whistle and she's chewing it in the comfort of the den and AC.  Which brings me to the phone call I just received.  It was my sister-in-law, Moo, about Jack.  It seems his nose was bleeding and she couldn't figure out why.  I asked her if it was across the top--across the bridge of his nose--and she said "YES".  She was worried that something really bad was wrong.  I told her, between smiles and laughter that "Nope.  He's just fine.  He's a hound dog and that's what they do.  They try to bury and hide their bones--their most prized possessions-- inside.  Outside, they dig in the dirt but he's inside, so he's using all he has--a fleece blanket and his nose, to bury his bone."  Since that's some tender skin, and a fleece isn't very forgiving, he's just rubbed the skin off, doing what he knows to do.

                                             
We both laughed and I could tell that though she loves dachshunds, she doesn't "speak" dachshund.  Yet.  She will.  (Her family had poodles when she was growing up--better known as Poodah's--so that's understandable.)  For now, though, that particular bone of Jack's is going "on vacation".  She said this scared her to death!