@)#! Dog

I went to the garden today with the intention of doing a little maintenance, like tying the tomato plants to their stakes, and training the pole beans up their poles. As I was tying the tomato plants, I found three big ripe tomatoes and a small ripe tomato, just right for picking (giving me visions of BLT sandwiches for dinner). I also found some blight on the tomato plants. Now, I don't like using chemicals, but I don't like losing all my tomato plants, either (been there, done that), so I mixed up a little fungicide in a pump sprayer and prepared to spray the plants. Before I sprayed, I picked the ripe tomatoes and laid them safely in the grass at the end of the garden.

My son's dog, a Cocker Spaniel named Bailey, had followed me to the garden. So had my mother-in-law. As I was spraying the tomatoes and she was weeding, I heard her yell, "Bailey, NO!" I looked up to find him running away, with one of my ripe tomatoes in his mouth.

I chased him down, took the tomato from him, and turned back to gather up the rest of the tomatoes. They were gone! I looked around. One was laying in the grass a few feet away. It had dog-tooth holes in it. So did the one in my hand. The third tomato, the ripest of the bunch, was nowhere to be found. I assume Bailey ate it.

Butthead.

We still had BLTs for dinner, dog-tooth-prints and all.