On Tuesday Paul and I fly to England to stay with Rob for two weeks and I am in "getting ready to go" mode. So on Saturday morning I called Rob to check in and give him one last chance to let me know of anything he might like me to bring over.
Rob is one of the most contented people I have ever known. He rarely "wants" anything for himself, and I wasn't surprised that there was nothing he could think of.
The one thing that would make him happy is something for Bruce, his Staffordshire Bull Terrier. But he said that Bruce was well stocked up with kongs and he is still working on the reindeer antlers I took in January. The one treat that he has adored since I took some to England--Liver Bites--has not been on the shelves of Costco; where I bought them; since January.
Rob mentioned them hopefully, but I shared the disappointing news, "I look every time I go in, but they just don't seem to have them anymore."
Brenda and I had shopping to do on Saturday afternoon. It included a few things from Costco (does anyone ever come out of Costco with "a few things?" )
I walked past the pet food, and as usual, I checked, ever hopeful that the Liver Bites might be back.
I couldn't believe my eyes! They were!
"Who knows how long they'll last," I thought to myself, and began mentally calculating a reasonable number of packages to fit in my case. Well, not reasonable exactly. First I picked up six packages. That seemed a bit excessive so I put two back--where would Rob store them in his tiny flat?
"No," I said to myself, "get them while you can," and I picked up the two I'd put back on the shelf and put them back in my shopping cart--"strike while the iron is hot" came to mind.
I walked away with my cart piled with Liver Bites and had gone only couple of aisles when a passing woman spun around on her heel and stared at my cart with narrowed eyes.
"Liver Bites!" she cried, as her bemused husband looked on.
"Yes," I agreed, "Liver Bites."
"They haven't had them for so long," she said. Then, with an interrogative tone to her voice she said, "Did you take them all?"
I assured her that I hadn't and made a hasty getaway before she started swiping packages right out of my cart.
At the check out, the packer said, "You have a dog."
"No, they're for my brother," I said, "Well, not for my brother, but you know!" I laughed.
I could hardly wait to get home and call Rob with the exciting news.
When I told him, he told me the true desperate state of affairs.
"We are down to the dust in the bottom of the last packet," he said, "Even though it's only dust, Bruce knows it's there." And he said that because it's dust, he's been tapping a bit into a bowl--and only every other day!
"And," he said, "Today we used the last bit of dust."
Oh, my! Just in the nick of time. :) And as for where Rob will put them, they are going into the loft.
Paul saw my case lying open on the bedroom floor with the packing that I have done so far, and he made a comment that showed that he just doesn't understand the importance of Liver Bites.
Ha ha! I just counted the packages in the photo, and I obviously didn't stop at six when picking them up.
There will be one happy dog when we arrive--and I'm hoping I don't have to open my case along the way. I'd have some explaining to do.