Our Easter ham was great. My dad seems to go back in his childhood when we have a ham dinner. He almost gets giddy. Apparently some of his fondest childhood memories are going to a cousin's farm. The cousins were poor (and so was my dad's family), but when dad's family would visit they would always have a big ham dinner. So, now when I make a ham it can't be spiral cut ham, oh, nooooo. It has to be a butt shank so he can take a huge hunk off and eat it out of the fridge, just like when he was a kid. So, mostly for him, I served ham.
We were left with a big ham bone after all the meat was eaten. I could have made soup with it, but I have a dog, and from what I've heard dogs really like bones. So, I thought I would give my little mixed breed a happy Easter and give her the bone. Who knew this gentle act of kindness would turn sour.
My dog is a weird one. She is 12, but is as energetic as a 4 year old. She isn't hyper by any means. Just a happy dog. She runs and plays in the back yard, chases squirrels, loves walks. But, she isn't much on food. Oh, she'll gobble up a steak if I put it in front of her, but her dog food I can leave in a bowl and she'll eat when she's hungry and no more. And she'll take an occasional doggie cookie, but she would never steal my dinner, even if I put it within reach. So, I should have known the ham bone wouldn't be as much of a hit as I had hoped.
I handed her the ham bone. She gingerly took it, chewed it for about 5 minutes, then took it outside and buried it. And then every 15 minutes she would go outside to check on it. And bury it some more. She did this until we went to bed, back and forth, back and forth, in and out, checking on the bone, making sure no one had found it, making sure it was covered with leaves and grass. On one of her trips inside I saw a little wrinkle on her brow from worrying about the thing.
I didn't realize my dog had obsessive compulsive disorder. It was like watching someone check the front door to make sure it was locked a zillion times before bed. Or wash their hands obsessively. And here I was trying to be nice, thinking she'd really like the bone. I so hate to see a dog worry. Anyone know the number to a doggie psychiatrist?
Question: Have you ever given a gift to someone thinking they would really love it, and it turned out they didn't?