I didn’t realize that dogs actually bury bones in the backyard. I thought it was a stereotype kind of thing, like barking at the moon or being named Rover.
But Leo does it. I’ve let him dig next to the house because he does it in a contained area, near the fenced patch of earth designated as his bathroom. I don’t care as long as he’s not digging any place I’ve actually landscaped. Months ago, I noticed that he buried balls and planting pots in the hole there. (I also let him run around with plastic planting pots in his mouth. I had the fantasy that I would teach him to stack the pots, but that hasn’t come to fruition just yet. I take them away from him once he really starts to chew them apart, and I stick my hand down his throat to remove any bits of plastic he attempts to swallow.)
Another amusing discovery is that he likes to hide bones under pillows. I first noticed this on the guest bed. He was so looking forward to my mom’s next visit that he thought he’d leave her a little treat under the pillow. Since then, he’s left them on and under the pillows in our room, as well as beneath some throw pillows beside the fireplace.
Earlier today, I discovered a rawhide bone at the bottom of a toy box. I gave it to him and he ran from room to room with it in his mouth, crying – literally, crying – because the doors to the bedrooms were closed and he didn’t know where to hide it.
“Dude, you can just eat it,” I told him.
He worked on it for a while, gnawing off the knots on each end, before trying again to find a place to hide it. He pulled a couch cushion to the floor, creating a fort, and worked on the rawhide for a few more minutes, hidden from my view. Then he went to the back door, so I let him outside, where he dug a hole and buried it. Now he’s back inside, wet and muddy, with no rawhide to chew on and expecting me to entertain him.
Kari Neumeyer 