Five-month-old Rudy absolutely loves knuckle bones (he's teething, too, so I suspect that has something to do with it).
He loves these bones so much, in fact, that he believes all knuckle bones in the world belong to him (envision toddlers and the word "mine"!).
No, Pinot, that's mine!
No, Tuc, that's mine!
No, Kenya, that's mine!
To ensure fairness and equality, each gets his own knuckle bone when we get them (six dogs, six bones). And they're huge (the bones). Yet, as far as the little squirt is concerned, it doesn't matter that the bones barely fit into Rudy's mouth:
They're all his.
Mind you, he's never aggressive about it -- sweet little boy that he is. He readily lets the big dogs take things from him all the time. And he never challenges the big dogs over their bones.
He just waits, and then cautiously sneaks in for a stealth removal when they're not looking, or an outright steal when they're distracted by something else. Here he is after Pinot ran after something else leaving her bone behind:
Oh boy, did she really leave it here? I'd better be careful...
Is the coast clear?
Yes, I got it, oh happy day!
Oh boy, is this fun!
And look! The Gang's not even paying attention to me! Oh boy!
It's mine. All gloriously mine!
[and with apologies to Dr. Suess]...
About the gang, I do not care
As long as I don't have to share.
Yup, that's our Rudy boy. :o)
Ya gotta luv 'im!
[Sidenote: Isn't Rudy handsome in his new red collar? And now he's a "real" boy -- he has an official name tag, too!]
'til next time,