I was drying my hair this morning when I remembered. I’m not sure why it struck me then, but those of you my age or older will nod your head in understanding and those younger will think you have years before it happens to you, but last night, after bringing in three eggs from the coop, I got distracted and never got them washed or put away. It happens. And why I remembered while drying my hair is beyond me, but that’s more nodding from some of you and more worry from others.

In any case, I set the hair dryer down and went to the kitchen where I found two eggs still on the counter. Two. No omelette pan on the stove indicating that James had eaten one for breakfast earlier. Just two eggs. I turned around and looked at Trudy and asked, “Where’s the other egg?” I opened the mud room door, giving her access to her dog door and she went running outside.

Burying is one of Trudy’s favorite things to do with precious items. Give her a new bone? It must be buried outside. If she steals James’ hat, it will be buried out back. If you happen to give her a bone and she can’t get outside, she will crybaby while pacing all around the house until you finally give in and just open the doggone door (pun intended, Dad!) I’m convinced our backyard is a treasure trove of lost socks, hats and other assorted items.

I washed the two remaining eggs, put them away and went back to drying my hair. Trudy returned, snout full of snow, tail just a-wagging, but no egg. I looked right at her and said again, “Trudy, where is the egg? Go get the egg!” much in the same way I tell her to go get her duck or moose toy when we play fetch. She ran off to the master bedroom.

I continued to dry my hair until I heard a thunk! and turned around just in time to see Trudy chasing after a rolling egg in the hallway!! I told her to leave it, and I picked up the egg from the floor. It had dog fur on it, but other than that, it was unbroken. I figure she must have “buried” it in her dog bed at some point last night.

The only thing I knew to do (besides put the egg in the compost bin) was to laugh and tell her what a good girl she is. The poodle in her wanted to steal the egg, but the Bernese in her was too guilty to keep her secret. Ahh, Trudy. Thank you for blessing my morning with heartfelt laughter!