Foraging for Food
Why...someone of you ask...do I always feel that I am hungry? Why...some of you might not ask...am I always whining and begging for one more treat? How...you definitely wish you knew...do I know how to tell time by the sound of the food hitting the bottom of my bowl?
Well, I have spent many a night researching this hunger mystery...and it seems to me that I can definitely say that it isn't my fault, it isn't breed specific, and there is no common cure for it. So, those of you who are of the opinion that my human starves me...well, I agree wholeheartedly...but my research is not backing that up. Maybe I need to rewrite the research to more effectively support my case....hmmm...I figured out how to type without deft movement of my toes...holding an eraser shouldn't pose too much of a challenge.
I am continually foraging for food because I am attempting to bone up on my survival skills. If my human ever had the audacity to set me free in the wilds of suburbia, I would be able to survive as long as the weather was warm, the water plentiful, and the grease from grills ever flowing...I sharpen my mind and my nosebuds every afternoon on my walk when I track the latest treats that have been tossed out for the birds...but why should birds be the only ones that enjoy the moldy treats of stale bread? Its not like the carbs are going to benefit their beady brains or make them see better...and oh, the carbs definitely put an extra swiggle in my hips...and an extra tub of flub round my belly...so clearly they are more benficial to me!
As the schnausers would say..."what's the point of being a schnauser if you can't have any struedel?"...now, I don't know if schnausers are German...but if I had such a horrible name as schanauser...I would require some struedel to make me feel better. And because I have been separated from my homeland, it seems only right that I can indulge in whatever I can find...trust me...if I had an unlimited supply of knockwurst and sauerkrat...I would probably never be sniffing the sides of the dumpster or licking up remnants pizza sauce from the cardboard boxes....but since I am forced to reside in suburbia in a country with no known culturally acclaimed food...I will continue to forage.
posted by frankiedog @ 11:23 AM
1 comments
1 Comments:
Dear Frankie,
I know exactly how you feel. It isn't just you, or your breed, or your species! As a brown anole, I can't tell you the trouble we lizards have in finding food. And I have it lucky living in a big climate controled tank. But still, my humans almost never feed me. They say I look fat, but it isn't my fault that I kept my pregnancy weight. Heck, the other night I even had to escape my tank and go rumaging through their kitchen for my dinner! I spent all night looking for where they had hidden all those juicy crickets, and just when I'd found them, "shriek! Spots got out!!" Next thing I know they're trying to cram me into some tupperware or juggling me from hand to hand! And after all that, my sisters ate all the crickets they DID give us and left me nothing but worms. WORMS I tell you! What's the sport in hunting worms. If I wasn't so old ... Well, anyhow, keep a stiff upper lip Frankie. Maybe your real owner will visit you again soon and spill a hot dog in your direction.
Sincerely,
Spots
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