Gibby is really an unusual dog. He has a sense of fun and love that just seems to burst out of him. Physically, he's getting stronger all the time, which is hard for me. He should probably belong to a teenaged boy who could run and jump and wrestle with him, but he got stuck with a creaky old lady. Today, we played catch with some sticks and with a rubber dog toy - that dog is fast! He didn't miss catching a stick once. The rubber toy - I think it's called a kong - bounces in odd ways, so Gibby would catch it and then throw it down on the ground and I could almost hear him laugh! He seemed so happy today - rolling and rolling in the grass, running through the trees and then back out again without getting his cable tangled.
Last night, I gave him, as I do almost every night, a packaged dinner that my mother didn't eat. It was a chicken breast with clumpy rice and veggies and I didn't want him to swallow it in one gulp, so I took it out of the package and cut it up. Then I dumped it on top of the dry dog food in the big mixing bowl I was going to carry out to the dog pen. He ran to the pen first, jumping up and down on his front legs like a kid's toy, and was really anxious for his dinner. I dumped it quickly into his food pan - and got the dirtiest look any dog has ever given me! When I dumped the bowl, the good stuff went to the bottom and he couldn't see it. I told him to dig in, and he did, pushing the dry stuff out of the way to get to the chicken. I left him sorting out his food.
Tonight, I gave him two packaged lunches that my mother and I didn't eat - hot dogs and beans. When I left Gibby, he was standing there with a hot dog sticking out of both sides of his mouth - I think he was asking if this was food or a toy. I'm thinking his former caretakers didn't give him people food.