Hamish the Corgi and Miss Tibbit can’t stop thinking about jelly beans.
I’m looking at Sweet Tibbit now and she’s laying on the window seat gazing into the middle distance. She seems vacuous, blank-eyed, awaiting stimulus. I assure you she is thinking about jelly beans. Hamish is lounged on the sofa, chin propped and contemplative. He is also thinking about jelly beans.
Because they are dogs, they both like, or rather, don’t dislike, every color jelly bean. I believe that there is a slight preference for pink, red and purple jelly beans over black, orange, and green. It is hard to tell with Hamish because he crunch-gulps so swiftly that the experience is over by the time his Corgi brain has the opportunity to form an opinion.
Sweet Tibbit, she savors a jelly bean. She snuffles the bean with her strangely mobile little black nose. If it proves acceptable (and it always does but certain colors are approved more quickly), if acceptable Sweet Tibbit takes the bean with her tiny front nibble teeth and pursed lips. It disappears into her maw. Her catfish-like whiskers twitch as she repositions her prize to her molars. This is a mistake Sweet Tibbit makes every time. Really, every time.
The bean embeds into Miss Tibbit’s molars.
We all watch Miss Tibbit make rictus faces and chew with great exaggerated jaw movement. Her awkwardly too-big-for-her-mouth tongue flaps around. She pauses and looks at us. Makes a little test chew. Nope, not done. The rictus, chewing, flapping tongue scene starts again.
Hamish feels an injustice has been perpetrated. He glances from Sweet Tibbit eating her jelly bean to me to the jelly bean bag. His meaning is quite clear. Miss Tibbit’s jelly bean was obviously better than the cheezy little one he got.
As I reach into the jelly bean bag for another one, Miss Tibbit abruptly stops chewing and looks pointedly at my hand. She is trying to demonstrate that she is ready for another bean. I hold my hand in the bag for a moment. Tibbit stares. I wait. I can see her lips trying to pull back into a rictus for more chewing. She is forcibly restraining them. I wait. Ricuts, flap, flap flap of the tongue.
Miss Tibbit gets more out of a single jelly bean than anyone I have ever seen. Sweet Tibbit, so simple, so sweet.
Well that does it. This proves that you’ll never run out of stuff to write about!
Well Dwain, whatever do you mean? Have you never passed a few happy minutes watching a dog get something stuck in its teeth? Shameless absurdity. She just didn’t care about anything else in the universe. Except the next jelly bean.
You just do wonderful writings about stuff I don’t think about until you write about it. Always fun!
Thanks! Hey, it is 75 degrees here today – almost civilized!
I have memories of kids and candy bars. Two kids get equal shares. One kid gobbles the candy while the other savors it, bite by bite. The gobbler then feels that it’s unfair that the savorer still has candy, sometimes for as long as 5 minutes, and whines complaints about it. So from this experience, my guess is that Hamish, being a dog, forgets that he has gobbled and that Little Miss Tibbit is, well, savoring in her own doggy fashion. All he knows is that he has no jelly bean and it isn’t fair.
The implication is that Hamish is smart enough to parcel out FAIR and UNFAIR. I think he might be.