Duke and Bridey

A few days ago, following one of these food day / picnic events where everyone is required to bring a dish, we had a heap of extra potato salad. We don't eat much of that particular item around the house - it's a little on the heavy side - so after one repeat appearance at the table the remaining portion ended up in the trash can.

This trash can, by the way, is the latest model we have acquired in an ongoing struggle against our golden-retriever, who has the wits of a safe-cracker when it comes to trash cans. We previously had one with the pedal-operated lid. That model was easily mastered by the family dog, who was frequently discovered snout down, one paw on the pedal, in pursuit of scraps. So we went with the tap-to-open lid, after a complex research process that rivaled NASA's search for a shuttle replacement, and which involved the patriarch of the house in the trash can aisle at Target describing the features of various models over the cell phone, one by one, to the matriarch at home.

Now it might be back to the drawing board. After the aforementioned potato salad disposal, we discovered Duke the rascally golden had mastered the tap-to-open lid. He may have been hiding this secret skill for a moment when there was worthwhile quarry. The dog in question was discovered about half an hour after dinner, attempting to skulk out of the kitchen unnoticed, with potato salad mashed into the fur around his head and in his ear. Trash was everywhere. Passions were high. He was ejected into the back yard with stern language, and later cleansed roughly with about half a roll of paper towels.

We love Duke. He came with that name - he's a rescue dog. And besides his trash-mad troublemaking, he's a pretty wonderful dog. And the baby thinks he's a trip. But the reason we have Duke is another golden that my family owned, a wonderful dog named Bridey who died yesterday. These creatures really brighten our lives, and they make us better and more compassionate people.

Mrs. Spacetropic has more.