What Cracklin' Oat Bran?"

     Latest chapter in the Bassett saga.  Belle, our Bassett Hound, always gets two pieces of chicken jerky and two biscuits  each morning, homemade of course, since she has us well trained. Until last week she has always taken them to her "killing field" (aka under the end of the dining room table) and consumed them.

        One morning early last week, while We were both in the bathroom, Emily turned and looked just as Belle, biscuit in mouth, jumped back up on the bed, prepared to picnic . She was abruptly and rather rudely disabused of that notion by both of us, essentially simultaneously.  The next day, she brought her biscuit into the bedroom and proceeded to lay on the rug by my side of the bed and start crunching. I told her to pick it up and leave the bedroom, which, being waaay smarter than the average Bassett Hound, she did.  Next day, she tried it again, not on the bed, for that ship has sailed; but when I told her to leave (the rug on my side again) she did so, only to return about 39 seconds later and go to Emily's side of the bed, biscuit in mouth. Again, she was told to pick it up and leave, which she did, accusatory look back at us, and all.

        This morning, we again went through the usual routine. Belle woke us at the usual 6:50, crawling up from the bottom of the bed and licking my nose. I Turned on the light, put her eye drops in, and told her it was time to go pee (for both of us) so she jumped off the bed and headed for the lanai. Upon finishing her morning toilette, we reentered and she went to her normal post-morning pee post - staring at and pointing the refrigerator, where the jerky and biscuits live. I gave her two big strips of jerky which she inhaled (under the table, as usual.) I put her two biscuits beside her and returned to the bedroom. 

     As I'm brushing my teeth, I see Belle returning to the rug by my side of the bed, biscuit in her mouth, ends hanging out  in plain view. As she had immediately crunched it into several pieces, I gathered them up and took them and her back to the killing field.  About a minute later, she reentered the bedroom, going to Emily's side of the bed this time and laying back down on the rug. I went to look, and sure enough, she had brought the other whole biscuit in with her. I told her to pick it up and leave, which she did, dirty look and all.

         About a minute later, as we were finishing dressing, she reappeared at the bedroom door, but this time she had the biscuit in her mouth lengthwise, so all that was visible was a small glimpse of the end. It reminded me of the commercial where the wife catches the hubby eating the last of the breakfast cereal, and when questioned with a mouthful he mumbles "what Cracklin' Oat Bran?" Emily asked her what she thought she was doing, and again with the look that only a Bassett Hound can truly master, Belle returned, thwarted yet again, to finish her breakfast in the appointed place.