[Dailydrool] "The Toast Ritual"

[Sue Stevens]

Hello all - I haven't been following things for about a month so I've 
a lot to catch up on. Drool to all in need. We are so blessed to have 
the sweet, wonderful houndie we do... he gives us such joy just to 
look at him! Onslow just got settled into his squishy chair/bed where 
he can survey most of the first floor. He knows I'll be at the 
computer for a while now.

I wanted to share a special time that Onslow and I have nearly every 
Saturday morning. I've named it "The Toast Ritual." Now I don't 
always have toast on Saturdays, but when I do Onslow knows it's time. 
I take down the toaster from it's spot on top of the refrigerator and 
plug it in on the island counter. He's on the alert and watching. I 
open the frig and get out the whole wheat bread I like and the inner 
wrapper crackles. He tilts his head and licks his chops. I get out 
the butter. The drool begins. (Sometimes I might delay the whole 
process by putting on the tea kettle so I can have a nice cup of tea 
as part of the ritual for me. Onslow doesn't care about tea - not 
even if the kettle whistles loudly.)

The bread goes in and the smell of it warming up and toasting is very 
obvious to Onslow. His noise is working like crazy. I wait for the 
sound of the little seeds cracking which is my signal it's done. I'm 
sure Onslow hears that sound too, but I'm focused on getting that 
lovely toasty slice of wheat bread adequately buttered. He has taken 
his place plastered up against the table leg at my end of the table, 
fairly quivering with excitement at the thought, the sensation, the 
taste of "toast."

I sit down with my plate - and perhaps my cup of tea if I timed 
things right - and Onslow sidles right up to my leg and plants 
himself there, back legs sort of sprawled to the side the way basset 
hounds do. And he waits. Ever so patient without even a whimper. He 
knows it will come. The drool is hanging now of course, but he is so 
fixated he won't even toss his head to let it fly.

I quickly get him a crust to kill the suspense. He carefully takes it 
- never grabs - and chews it up in a second. I eat some more, 
planning how I consume the rather small piece of toast so that the 
optimum number of crusts can be salvaged for the hound at my feet. In 
less than 5 minutes, it's over.

Onslow isn't convinced. He can still smell it. I sometimes have to 
show him the plate - but then he wants to lick the crumbs. "All 
gone," I tell him. Then he's satisfied and he'll trundle off to one 
of his favorite spots to nap... and to dream of an endless stream of 
toast crusts coming from my finger tips.

regards to all - snooters & bellyrubs... and toast crusts to those 
who enjoy them,

Sue Stevens