Chat
04-16-2017, 08:06 AM
Oh my gosh, that's hilarious! I'm glad he opted to spit the gum out instead of swallowing it. I'm sure it wouldn't hurt him, but I still wouldn't like the thought of them eating bubblegum.
Last night's campfire really couldn't have been more perfect. It was warm enough for me to wear shorts but cool enough I wanted a jacket--exactly the temperature I like at a campfire. There was not a breath of wind all evening. Last night Phil started the fire before I brought Cuzco out. We didn't want another goat flambeau disaster. No "Cuzco Crisp" at this campfire, if you please! We brought him out after the paper was burned up but the new fire smoke was still rolling. He spent some time, as always, taking in the vapors.
Although it was "Cuzco's" campfire, there was a limit to our hospitality. I brought the squirt gun so we could keep the old fella at bay whenever the cooler was open. Phil and I wanted at least SOME of the buns and graham crackers for ourselves. Besides, when Cuzco goes on a junk food frenzy, he doesn't exercise much caution. The line between comestibles and garbage is forgotten and Cuzco will inhale any box, bag, wrapper, or bottle that comes between his mouth and the goodies. Although Cuzco has always prided himself on his stomach of iron, I can't imagine such a smorgasbord would be good for his digestion.
"No, you don't like hot dogs, Cuzco!"
"Well, I don't know. I haven't tried this particular hot dog before!"
"Cuzco, get off my hot dog!"
"Are you sure I don't like hot dogs? Just because I haven't like them for fifteen years doesn't mean I won't like them tonight!"
Last night's campfire really couldn't have been more perfect. It was warm enough for me to wear shorts but cool enough I wanted a jacket--exactly the temperature I like at a campfire. There was not a breath of wind all evening. Last night Phil started the fire before I brought Cuzco out. We didn't want another goat flambeau disaster. No "Cuzco Crisp" at this campfire, if you please! We brought him out after the paper was burned up but the new fire smoke was still rolling. He spent some time, as always, taking in the vapors.
Although it was "Cuzco's" campfire, there was a limit to our hospitality. I brought the squirt gun so we could keep the old fella at bay whenever the cooler was open. Phil and I wanted at least SOME of the buns and graham crackers for ourselves. Besides, when Cuzco goes on a junk food frenzy, he doesn't exercise much caution. The line between comestibles and garbage is forgotten and Cuzco will inhale any box, bag, wrapper, or bottle that comes between his mouth and the goodies. Although Cuzco has always prided himself on his stomach of iron, I can't imagine such a smorgasbord would be good for his digestion.
"No, you don't like hot dogs, Cuzco!"
"Well, I don't know. I haven't tried this particular hot dog before!"
"Cuzco, get off my hot dog!"
"Are you sure I don't like hot dogs? Just because I haven't like them for fifteen years doesn't mean I won't like them tonight!"