I picked up a couple new dog bones Thursday night, and from the moment they entered the house, Chance knew. They sat on the mantel between the kitchen and living room at first, but I knew he was pining for them, so I moved them to the sewing table in my office. Out of sight, out of mind, I thought.

I wanted to wait until he really needed distracting. Like when he got left behind on the next bush hike, which happens a lot, because his physique can’t handle the terrain. Poor little guy, he tries hard to stay right on the big dogs’ heels, but he high centres on logs, just about drowns in deep puddles, etc.

Tonight, relaxing in my chair reading, I heard a thump from my office, so I went to check it out. And there was Chance, standing at attention, focussing intently on the smaller bone. And it had moved! No longer next to the bigger bone, it was now hanging off the edge of the table!



What an amazing dog! Of course he hadn’t TOUCHED the bone, not the best dog on earth! Chance would never stoop so low. He had simply wished hard, and the bone had begun to come to him!

Well that was that. I couldn’t force him to suffer any longer, I unwrapped it, and handed it over. After all, I don’t want him getting too good at telekinesis, he is already a handful!