Hey y’all. I hope you’re all having a wonderful day. Today I’m coming to you from my couch (my favorite place), sipping on an iced coffee with cream and sugar (my favorite drink). The patio door is open, and the crisp Boston air is swirling in. The Profit is on, and I’m enjoy myself. It’s my week off of work, and I feel like myself again.
This past week it was Cormac’s first birthday. We wanted to make something special out of it, so my fiance went to Whole Foods and bought Cormac a strip steak. Before we get into Cormac enjoying this beautiful steak, I want to take you back about 3 weeks ago when my fiance lovingly cleaned my cast iron pan after dinner… except the brush he had used was one I had used to clean the shower floor. I had accidentally left the brush by the sink after using it to remove food off of the dishes going into the dishwasher. I was disgusted by the thought of this, and had intended to clean my pan, I swear! But alas… life got away from me.
Fast forward to Cormac’s birthday, when I turned the corner and see Cormac’s beautiful steak sizzling on the cast iron pan. “Not the shower pan!!!” I exclaim, but alas it is too late. After some exchanging of profanities, and starting over with his steak, Cormac still got a meal fit for a king. We cut it up into bite sized pieces, put it in his dish, and he scarfed it down in about 2.5 seconds, and then looked around for more. Then he got a birthday cake. My little prince.
We got some cheese and cracker plates put together, went outside, and threw some hamburgers on the grill. As the Lord Hobo flowed, EEE infested mosquitoes swirled around our heads, and the hamburgs sizzled, Cormac ran around the courtyard with his friend Gracie. He jumped up onto the raised garden bed. I walked over to reprimand him and tell him to get down, when he emerged from the bushes with what appeared to be a long thick strip of moss in his mouth. It was dark, so I focused my eyes a bit more, when I suddenly saw a spine and heard bones clanking around from this mysterious object.
Screams of fear and disgust ensued at the realization that my beautiful baby boy was carrying around a decaying rabbit dug up from its grave. Poor baby Cormac was just being the dog he is and presenting me with his cool new gift. The surgeon in the group took the grilling tongs, got the rabbit, and threw it away (yes, along with the tongs). That night, Cormac got a lot of doggy toothpaste and a bath.
Overall, I think Mr Cormac had a pretty awesome day. He went to bed full of steak, legs tired after playing with friends, and with the taste of dead rabbit in his mouth. What more could a dog ask for?