Home alone

Last night after putting Jamie on the plane we came back home and looked to see what we could make for dinner.  We were going to make some tacos with leftover steak and ribs from a few days before but decided that the meat had been sitting around too long so we walked down to have a bite to eat at Juanita’s, a little sidewalk restaurant on Sabalo.  We shared the Mexican plate, which had enough for both of us (60 pesos, about 5.50) and listened to two young guys playing “Let it Be” on the violin and guitar, then walked home.

When we opened the door it seemed odd that the dogs weren’t barking their usual greeting.  In fact they hadn’t even come down to wag their tails. Everything else seemed fine—until Harry walked into the kitchen.

In our absence they had raided the garbage.  It was strewn all over the floor, including some broken glass, vegetable peelings, and the empty Styrofoam container that had held leftover meat. There wasn’t a scrap left. Both the dogs looked a little guilty, but not too much, as they watched us clean up the mess.  I worried a bit about their digestion from eating the bones, until I remembered that Harry had cut the meat off in preparation for making the tacos.  Whew!  I wouldn’t want to start my day with perforated bowels in my dogs.   They both seem to be their frisky selves this morning.

Now that my pair of opportunistic scavengers have discovered how easy it is to raid the garbage, we’ll have to be extra careful when we leave them home alone.