My dog ate a chicken bone yesterday on our walk. I don’t know how she found it buried under the stratum of ice, but, presumably, her nose led her to it. She dug it up, ate half of the frozen thing, and growled at me when I tried to take it away. She got half, I got half. I suppose that’s fair. While she was chomping down her half, I stood on the sidewalk shouting things like, “Drop it! You don’t want that! That might taste good now but that’s going to hurt coming up (or out)! You stupid, stupid dog! Drop it!” (Please don’t call The Society on me…