I am Scout, a female labrador retriever. The canine member of the family. The American Kennel Club confirms that my intelligence and adaptability make me an ideal dog. I have a highly developed sense of smell. It informs and guides me. And sometimes it gets me into trouble...
I am not a fan of The Bread Baker's Apprentice Challenge. Reinhart relies all together too much on temperature and time. The labrador relies on smell. I can tell when the barm on the counter needs to fed. I can tell just by the change in the room, when the bread has proofed. I could be such a help. But feigning concern for my health and my hips, my humans work hard to keep me lean and healthy and starved. Each week, a different bread, never any for me. Surround by aromas, dogs cannot live on aromas alone.
Father's Day started off well, with a trip to the local park. The smells in the park were layered and enjoyable, much like a fine glass of wine.
We returned to the house where the male human was treated to eggs, fresh homemade bread and the New York Times. The scents were enticing, but for me, only a breakfast of Science Diet for mature dogs. Do you know how it feels to be the only one in a room forced to eat kibbles?
The day continued with even the chickens mocking me with their smell, I could leap up and crush them, but I am too well behaved, a good dog.
At some point, I found myself alone with the loaf of white bread. Finally, I could stand it no more and snatched the second loaf of bread off the counter. Although I have a highly developed sense of smell, I have absolutely no sense of pacing myself. Unsure when the next opportunity to eat bread products would present itself, I ate the entire loaf.
I've been ill for two days, a carbohydrate hangover, but it was worth it.
The female has taken to hiding cooling loafs, but one day she will forget...