Can You Dig It?

Big brothers are good for teaching us things. I do remember that when I was a kid my older brother taught me a couple of things that have stuck with me all these years. He taught me how to pick through other people's garbage. Sure, laugh, but you would be surprised at the treasures we found including a whole fleet of kids pedal cars. And then there was the time we found dozens of large balloons floating down the creek one day. My brother was in seventh grade so I was probably in third, and he referred to those balloons as, "The eighth grade rubbers." At first, when he explained to me what they were for, I was a skeptic. But after checking with some of my other friends, I realized that it was true. By the way, 'other friends' is where I learned ninety nine percent of my sexual knowledge. That's why it took me until my twenties before I figured out the fundamentals of female plumbing. Not that it mattered. 

I have noticed that what is true for humans is also true for dogs. Bette for instance has learned a couple of things from watching Chandler. The first time she saw Chandler rolling around in the neighbor's grass, she stood there watching and then jumped on him. By the third time she saw him rolling deliriously in the grass she joined in, the two of them rolling and squirming around in god knows what funkiness. Learning among dogs is apparently a two way street. Chandler has learned something from Bette, something he never did until he saw her doing it. Digging. First it was Bette who was digging holes all over the dog run. Dig a hole, pee in the hole and walk away, that was Bette. Chandler's version is a little different though. He digs a hole, and then keeps on digging. There is no purpose for the holes he digs that I can figure, but he is now obsessed. Every time I open the back door he runs out to the exact same spot that he was digging in before and starts digging. I keep filling the holes in, and my dogs just keep digging them out again.