By Bob Groeneveld
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My dogs can read.
It turns out that they鈥檙e more literate than most people on Facebook.
Thankfully, they haven鈥檛 yet learned to spell everything鈥� but then, neither have most people on Facebook.
Two words that both Sam and Pippin certainly can spell 鈥� or at least, read 鈥� are 鈥渕ark鈥� and 鈥渟ucker鈥�.
They are the two words that apparently appear on my forehead as soon as I sit down to eat anything that they would like to share.
Chicken, hamburger, french fries, peanut butter, cheese鈥� especially cheese.
Even lettuce, although generally just romaine, has come to tickle their fancy.
As soon as I sit down, whether in the gazebo or in the garden, beside the pond or, on a rainy day, in the downstairs snug, they鈥檙e there. Quietly and politely, the con artists sit before their mark, their faces as courteously hopeful as they can make them 鈥� almost, but not quite sad, with a restrained eagerness carefully calibrated to melt a sucker鈥檚 heart.
They鈥檙e not begging, you understand.
They don鈥檛 moan and groan as some dogs do (Sam鈥檚 not a dog, after all, he鈥檚 a poodle). They don鈥檛 hold up a paw, and they don鈥檛 fuss and bother.
They just quietly sit and watch me eat.
And they read my forehead.
You can almost see their lips moving as they carefully work out each word.
They read intently, with deep concentration, parsing each letter of each word: m-a-r-k and s-u-c-k-e-r while I vow inwardly to stand fast, to not give in.
Sometimes I鈥檒l tell them out loud that they鈥檙e wasting their time.
But they will continue to study the inscriptions on my forehead until I can鈥檛 take it anymore, and ultimately offer them each a tidbit from my plate.
Mission accomplished.
They鈥檝e won again.
I am ridden with guilt. Donna doesn鈥檛 have this problem. Donna is strong.
And somehow, Sam and Pippin still love her the most.
I know it鈥檚 my fault.
I know that they would simply lay at my feet and patiently wait for their turn to happily consume the humble fare that Donna and I prepare for them every day.
And they would be pleased and grateful, as they are when they obediently wait for Donna to feed them鈥� when I鈥檓 not home.
But one day, some time between the day I retired and now 鈥� I鈥檓 not exactly sure when 鈥� they noticed those two words chiselled into my brow: 鈥渕ark鈥� and 鈥渟ucker鈥�.
First it was Sam, and more recently, Pippin has joined the reading circle.
Now the study session and the tidbits have become routine.
They read the words and pretend they鈥檙e not begging.
I pretend that I鈥檓 trying hard not to give in.
And then I do.
And everyone is happy.
The dogs put on their silliest grins, as do I.
And even Donna is smiling.
That鈥檚 my definition of a good day.
