Labs keep life interestingWhen I was visiting Katrina last month she took a package of frozen pork chops from the freezer and set them on the counter to thaw. I looked in disbelief for a moment, then asked, “Aren’t you worried about your Labradors getting those chops? Without an armed guard, they would be gone within 10 minutes in our house. Otis and Lucy wouldn’t even have to extend themselves to reach them.”
By: Bernie Kuntz, The Jamestown Sun
When I was visiting Katrina last month she took a package of frozen pork chops from the freezer and set them on the counter to thaw. I looked in disbelief for a moment, then asked, “Aren’t you worried about your Labradors getting those chops? Without an armed guard, they would be gone within 10 minutes in our house. Otis and Lucy wouldn’t even have to extend themselves to reach them.”
Katrina laughed and said that, no, her Labradors were no threat to the pork chops.
I call my Labradors Otis and Lucy “the counter cruisers.” One time Otis reached up and snared a half pound of raw bacon, ate all of it and didn’t even get sick! Another time Laurie laid out some chicken breasts to thaw.
“When I returned to the kitchen I noticed there were three chicken breasts,” she said. “I could have sworn I had laid out four. When I checked half hour later and there were only two, I knew something was up!”
Turns out that Otis was doing a bit of “counter-cruising.” I imagine him “slurping” them each down like a large raw oyster! After this, we moved fresh food to the rear of the counter.
I have lost track of the times Lucy has reached up and grabbed a bag containing buns or sliced bread, then taken the package to the love seat in the living room and devoured its contents. Of course, she leaves the empty bag, which confirms her guilt. We’d scold her, Lucy’s ears would droop while the tip of her tail wagged.
Lately, Lucy has wised up. She reached up, rolled the bag so it would open, then reached in and took a couple slices of bread. Laurie caught her in the midst of her second “raid.”
Labradors are usually good for fun, loving and family peace. But I can’t forget the time Laurie made a birthday cake and we all had a big slice on a Sunday evening. Laurie, getting up early to go to work thought I had devoured the rest of the cake before I went to bed because the cake was gone and the cake plate clean. When the kids arose to go to school they noticed the cake was gone and thought Laurie had taken it to work. Later, I discovered the cake missing and thought, “Nobody left me a piece of cake!”
That evening before accusations got out of hand we noticed that Labrador Bruno was not eating breakfast or dinner. When we examined him more closely we could see that his tummy was bloated! He did not get sick, but did not eat much for a couple days. Puppy Bruno was the culprit. Cakes thereafter were put behind closed doors, and Bruno’s name was thereafter hyphenated to “Bruno-Hog.”
My Labradors not only are nefarious in the kitchen, but they are smart and know more English than your average Florida Democrat. Say, “I think I will pick up the ‘doo,’” and Lucy will scamper to the back door, wanting to be part of the “adventure” of accompanying someone to the back yard to pick up Labrador droppings.
We used to say, “I’m going for a walk,” but at the risk of having the back door torn down by excited Labradors, we began to spell w-a-l-k. Eventually they learned how to spell that so we had to change the word “walk” to “spin,” as in “I’m going for a spin.” When they figured out what “spin” meant, we started spelling out more words, and now they even pick up on that!”
The word “truck” is certain to have them bouncing, as they know they will get to go in their kennels and off for a ride to hunt, fetch dummies from Hyalite Lake or some other interesting adventure. They know what r-i-d-e is, too.
Say the word “supper” and you will have two Labradors in the kitchen, anxiously awaiting their food dishes. Also “food,” “feed”, “goodies”, “treats”, or “biscuits.”
These two Labradors also understand concepts. I can stand at the middle part of the stairs, one set going up and one going down. If I say, “Let’s go up,” they do. If I say, “Let’s go down”, they will descend to the rec room. (It would be different, of course, if they were sitting on the ground at the back of the pick up truck and I said, “Let’s go up.”)
Such is life where we own Labrador retrievers. Or is it the other way around, and they own us?