The Gulp

My ottoman shaped puggle often gets overshadowed by my regal husky. Sure, he is stunning and beautiful, but Nairobi has skills. She does things. She can snore like a large human. She can sleep through the day just as easily as she sleeps through the night. She can eat without chewing.

It used to concern me that she inhaled her food rather than chewing it. I worried that she might choke. But then an event, which I call The Gulp, happened, and my fears were eased.

It happened shortly after supper not too long ago. According to her usual custom, Nairobi was hovering  between the locations most likely to receive dropped delicacies of the human food variety.

Before I say anything more, I must explain that my husband has some strange quirks. One of them is that he is compelled to clean out the refrigerator at the first sign of disorderliness. The shelves are all placed at a strategic height that he has figured, and all the items go on the shelf corresponding to its height. When a short jar of pickles shows up in the tall spot reserved for the milk, he develops the twitches. When the mustard gets put on its side due to a small carton of yogurt showing up on the taller condiment shelf, he blows gaskets. It's just the way he is. We still love him.

So, while I was loading up the dishwasher and the kids were carrying plates and cups from the table to the kitchen sink, Mike was emptying, wiping, scrubbing, and organizing the refrigerator. This is not a rare occurrence.

Just as the dishwasher shut and the last perishable good was placed back into the refrigerator, Mike opened the freezer.

"What in the world is all of this clutter?" he asked, horrified.
"Just random stuff," I explained.
"We surely don't need everything we have stuffed in here."
"We might."
"Really," he asked. "We need this bag of bones?"
"Those are for the dogs. I use them as treats."
"Well, what about this large tin foil bundle? What is in here?"

When he peeled back the tin foil, he discovered that the bundle was full of leftover hotdogs - once grilled but long since forgotten. I had a vague memory of one of my offspring wrapping them in foil and freezing them, but the logic behind such an action did not spring into my mind.

Then it happened. One lone completely frozen hot dog wobbled on the edge of the foil for a fraction of a second before toppling over the edge. As if she were synced to the frequency at which food falls, Nairobi ran, ears blowing behind her, to intercept the hot dog. She opened her mouth and caught it before it hit the ground.

In spite of the fact that it was a rather long hot dog, in spite of the fact that it had been frozen for months, Nairobi swallowed it whole. As we all stared, frozen in panic, she calmly licked her lips and walked to her pillow for a long nap.

I told you - she has skills.