Digging dogs

I have never owned a dog who dug holes. I am lucky that way. Digging is a natural sport for dogs. Some dig to reach cool dirt to lay down in. Some dig, hunting for those elusive moles who tunnel underground. Some bury things. Some dig just to be digging.
One of my Mom's recued dogs was turned in to the shelter because she dug holes. I guess the people had never heard of a shovel. She spent the next 16 years of her life and never dug one hole.
Buzz doesn't dig holes. Buzz buries things. The things he buries are rawhides and marrow bones. He can't figure out how to eat them all in one sitting, so to protect them from all the other animals who might steal them, he buries them. Now, no other critters live inside my house so this has to be hardwired into his DNA somewhere.
After making an unscheduled trip to Orlando yesterday and not getting home until very early this morning, I gave Buzz a frozen marrow bone as a treat. I figured he could lay on the floor and chew on it all day and I could assuage my guilt at not being home last night.
But Buzz, being the hoarder he is, promptly took it outside, dug a hole by the oak tree, buried it, used his nose to cover it up and came back in the house.
In a few hours I expect the squirrels will find the bone, scamper up the oak tree and begin feasting on it. When Buzz decides to go back for it, he will go right to the spot and it will be gone. I am sure he wonders what happens to these bones, but I don't have the heart to tell him the squirrels are living high cotton when he buries his treasure.

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