Tomato

Mommy has left the tomatoes on the porch while she waters the garden. Neither Duncan nor I have ever been close to a tomato. They usually travel and rest well above our heads. But here they are now.

There is a tomato in front of me. I lie on my tummy and sniff it. It looks like a ball. I push it with my nose. Next to me, Duncan is pawing another tomato. Mommy tells us to move away from the tomato.

Then she turns her head.

When she turns around, I have the biggest and juiciest tomato of the bunch. I have torn open the side and am lapping up the juice. Mommy tells me no, that tomatoes are not for dogs. But she is too late. I have tasted the forbidden fruit.

I move away from the tomato. I sit at a distance of three feet from it, and gaze at it, guiltily. I am a good girl and want to please Mommy.

Mommy turns back to her watering.

Duncan has been in the house, and does not know that eating the tomato will displease Mommy. When Mommy turns around again, he is finishing up the last of the tomato. He has even licked up the seeds.