Goopi and his rubber chicken

For much of my life I wanted a rubber chicken. The kind you buy in gag stores and give to someone as a gift, or toss at someone at a party like they did in the old-time comedy shows. Kind of like a pie in the face, but not as messy.

I did get the pie in the face once. Everyone was in on it except me, of course. Just as my friend was tossing the pie I unfortunately turned my head so I didn't get it right in the kisser. I always thought a pie in the face would be funny, and the best part would be that it would taste good. I didn't get to taste much, I missed out on the delicious part and instead had a mess. But it was funny.

Life went on, I forgot about the rubber chicken. Saturday my husband went to the feed and pet store and came home with a rubber chicken for our dog, Goopi. Ah - my dream finally came true - kind of. I didn't get the rubber chicken, but my dog did. I was so happy. Dogs seem to know when something is for them, or maybe they think everything is for them, but Goopi was quite excited, especially since this rubber chicken squeaks. He likes squeaky toys. He chewed on it a little, grabbed it from us when we offered it to him and even pranced around with it.

Alas, Goopi's excitement didn't last long. By Sunday, when we decided to take a picture of him and his rubber chicken, he wanted no part of it. "Ick - get that thing away from me!" he said. So here he is, disdainfully eying that which had made him so happy the day before.That's a dog for ya!