Another shaggy bone story.

We've just come back from Mexico. The first day we were there, sunning ourselves by the pool, Marlene gave Bao another steak bone. She'd saved it for him. He promptly marched off and buried it beneath the bougainevilla. (Bao hasn't buried anything since we left Florida. We don't have dirt, in Tucson. We have pebble mulch, with caliche underneath. Caliche is rock)

Silly dog! I told him.

He ignored me. For the next couple of days, he ignored the bone, as well. I figured he forget about it, or one of the other dogs dug it up.

Then yesterday, while I was chatting with visitors from Colorado, the dirt started to fly. Bao was digging up his bone. Yes, he remembered. Yes, it was still there. He extricated it, and carried it proudly to my beach towel. It was so cute. Everyone just cracked up.

He must think he owns the place, the man from Colorado said.

Bao looked up as if to say, Don't I?