How to Eat an Egg

Biscuit the innocent. "Who me? What egg?"

This afternoon Mr. Biscuit showed me how to thoroughly enjoy eating an egg. It all started when I collected eggs from the barn into a bucket, set the bucket outside on the milking stand, and then forgot about it. Biscuit respected my little collection for some time; I know because I passed the bucket several times and was reminded, "Oh! I've gotta take those down to the house!" but didn't. In time, though, his canine mind considered the issue--I'm sure--decided that food dished out onto the milking stand is usually for animals (if not precisely dogs), and that he thus had a right to it.

"Oh! That egg. Hmmm."

By the time I noticed him carefully guarding a treasure on the hillside below the shop-in-progress, the egg bucket only held one egg--not five. True, the egg he held was intact; however, it had been thoroughly subjected to dog slime and since eggshells are porous...well, you get the idea. I didn't want dog slime with breakfast. So I stopped to watch him.

"This bears investigation."

At first he was cautious, looking from his egg to me to his egg to me to his egg. Was she (I) going to try to take it? Would he be able to keep his prize? After a couple of minutes he relaxed. Yup, that silly woman was just watching--even snapping pictures--and totally missing out on the goodness of egg.

He may be big, but Biscuit knows to be gentle with eggs.

He rolled the egg about between his paws, possibly considering the best angle from which to attack it. Then he picked it up and set it down several times. The rolling, moving, and mouthing was done with care and respect. This egg was decidedly a prize.

Although I expected him to chow it down, Biscuit licked delicately, savoring the flavor.

Finally I noticed that he had begun to lick: he'd pierced the shell and was tasting the runny egg. As big as his tongue was, the job took time: he was savoring the meal. I got bored and turned back to work, only to encounter an intact egg on the driveway. Already coated with dog slime, the egg was now conveniently camouflaged with crushed gravel.  What choice did I have but to put it into his dish?

"Mmm, mmm. Good to the last drop!"