Game of Bones

I had just picked up my knitting when Ray appeared at the sliding glass door, rawhide stogie gripped between black doggie lips, tail wagging. I put my knitting back down and sighed. It looked like a game of keepaway was about to begin.

"Gimme that bone, Ray," I said as I slid open the door and stepped out into the late afternoon humidity.

The happy dog trotted away, tossing his head in a classic "nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah, I've got the bone and you don't" move. I followed Ray into the yard and watched as he cantered down the open stretch of green grass then turned and circled back to try to tempt me to follow him. As he got within arm's reach, I stretched out and grabbed the end of his stogie. Ray did not let go, as he sometimes does, so that he can chase me, he clamped down his teeth and continued walking. As I let go of the rawhide, I realized this was going to be a "chase Ray until he decides to bury his bone"game.

After a couple of turns around the yard, I became distracted by blooming things. Ray wandered off, looking for the perfect resting spot for his rawhide. A minute later, there was a yell. Then another one. I paid no attention because Ray often yells for no apparent reason when we are in the backyard together.
After the fifth or sixth yell, I looked away from my flowers, obviously there was a reason that Ray was yelling this time.

"What's up, Ray?" I asked.

Ray yelled again. He was standing, ears deployed in Dumbo mode, in front of the fence between us and his pug neighbors, Archie and Dory, the bone on the ground in front of him. His tail was wagging tentatively, but he was at attention, on the lookout for bone robbers. He yelled again.

I walked to the fence and looked between the slats. Blind Archie was directly opposite, poking at the dirt with one paw. Dory was next to him looking interested but obviously willing to let her blind brother do all the work to get to the prize. Ray yelled again. And again. And again. And again. My quiet time in the garden at an end, I retired to the house. The yelling did not stop.

Exasperated at the noise I stuck my head out the back door and counterproductively yelled for quiet. It was not forthcoming. Knowing what I had to do, I strode to the scene and confiscated Ray's bone.
"Come inside," I said to the dog.

Because I had his bone, Ray anxiously followed me into the house. I handed it to him and watched as he turned and went through the dog door and right back to the spot where his friends had been. Ray dropped the bone in front of him and waited. And waited. And waited. His friends, however, had moved on.

Juno, meanwhile, watched the scenario play out from the comfort of her new favorite hangout.

sigh

They're not coming back are they?

Maybe I'll wait just a little longer….

This isn't quite as interesting as Game of Thrones, is it?