Kate will be 5 in March, and she is mostly the best of dogs. She loves people, loves her doggy play dates, and volunteers her time (and mine) for therapy dog work. If you want to be her best friend, throw a tennis ball (but be prepared to keep playing for a while--your arm will drop off before she gets tired).
But no dog can be good all the time. Kate has ensured that memories of this past Thanksgiving will always begin--"Remember that Thanksgiving when Katie ate the turkey neck?" Yes, indeed. Of all of the turkey parts a dog could get into, Kate managed to grab the worst, most brittle, most splintery-est, most bad-for-dogs part. Now, knowing our dog as we do, A. and I are very very careful about preventing this kind of thing. But our dog is, apparently, very very smart. She calmly waited for her opportunity, grabbed the neck off of someone's plate (don't get me started about how people can eat this stuff--ugh), and ran. Immediately she was tackled by several brothers-in-law yelling "drop it!" and her cousin dog Emily who, I suppose, was hoping Kate would actually drop it so she could share some turkey goodness too. All of this commotion of course made Katie gulp the thing down even faster. FORTUNATELY, disaster was averted when, about 20 minutes later (as A. and I were debating whether we shouldn't just take her to the emergency vet right then and there), we heard the unmistakable sounds of our dog barfing up the contents of her stomach. Yes, that happened on my mother-in-law's white rug, and, yes, normally I am less than thrilled about cleaning up dog barf. But this time, seriously, it was a lovely site, because there in the middle of all the goo lay the turkey neck--broken in two, but otherwise intact.
Just to be on the safe side, we've been watching her, but nearly a week later everything appears to be A-OK. For this we are very very thankful.