"Do I look excited?"For much of my life I wanted a rubber chicken. The kind you buy in gag stores and give to someone as a gift, or toss at someone at a party like they did in the old-time comedy shows. Kind of like a pie in the face, but not as messy.
I did get the pie in the face in grad school. Everyone was in on it except me, of course. Just as my friend was tossing the pie I turned my head so I didn't get it right in the kisser. I always thought a pie in the face would be funny, and of course taste good. I didn't get to taste much, but it was funny.
Life went on, I forgot about the rubber chicken. Saturday Rob went to the feed and pet store and came home with a rubber chicken for Goopi. Ah - my dream finally came true - kind of. I didn't get the rubber chicken, but my dog did. I was so happy. Dogs seem to know when something is for them, or maybe they think everything is for them. But Goopi was quite excited, especially since this rubber chicken squeaks. He likes squeaky toys. He chewed on it a little, grabbed it from us when we offered it to him and even pranced around with it.
Goopi's excitement didn't last long. By Sunday, when we decided to take a picture of him and his rubber chicken, he wanted no part of it. "Ick - get that thing away from me!" he said. So here he is, disdainfully eying that which had made him so happy the day before.
That's a dog for ya!
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