At the Risk of Sounding Bone-Headed

During our pre-supper conversation about Hick's broken radio, talk turned to his Storage Unit Store.

"You'd be surprised how many people bring their dogs up to the storage units."

"That's why I said you should sell dog stuff."

"I DO! From all that I found in them storage sheds I bought. Bowls and leashes and collars and stuff."

"You give out toys for little kids. You should give treats to the dog people."

"I had some treats up there."

"What kind?"

"Bones."

"You mean the dog biscuits? Shaped like bones?"

"No. Bones."

"RAWHIDE bones?"

"No. Bones."

"I'm not getting it."

"Bones. Like you'd give a dog. I bought a box of them at the auction."

"The auction! Like, from a butcher?"

"No. Just a box of bones that somebody brought. I had them in my storage unit, and then one day I opened the door, and something stunk. I had to get rid of them."

"Wait a minute! You had actual RAW BONES? With meat on them?"

"Not with meat on them. Like your dog might have laying in the yard."

"So somebody went out and collected old dried-out bones in the yard, and you bought them."

"No, Val. You're not understanding."

"I KNOW THAT! I can't figure out how you got bones like that."

"I don't know. It was just a box of bones."

"Without meat on them? Why did they stink?"

"I don't know, Val! It was just a box of real bones, and I had to throw them out."

Huh. I totally don't get the concept, or why Hick thought he could keep these bones in a box and hand out over several weeks (or months) time.
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Oh my gosh! I dared to reopen the investigation last night! Can't say that I'm much more enlightened than I was before.

"You know those dog bones you bought at the auction? How much did you pay for them?"

"I don't remember, but it was less than $5."

"How big was the box?"

"I don't know. It was a box."

"The size of that one over there on the couch? About the size a toaster could fit in?"

"Yeah. About that big."

"So you don't know where they came from? Or who was selling them? Were other people actually bidding against you?"

"There was more than one box, Val! And several people were bidding."

"I still don't know what kind of bones you're talking about. Were they round, like chicken bones? Or flat, like from a pork chop? How big?"

"They was round bones, Val. They have them at the store. In Tractor Supply, or The Family Center. Like...plastic bones, wrapped in paper."

"They were PLASTIC bones? In PAPER? You said they were real bones!"

"Val! You can't ever understand anything! No, the bones weren't plastic. They were BONES!"

"You just SAID they were PLASTIC!"

"Well, that's not what I meant."

"No wonder I can't understand your stories. You tell me one thing, then change it!"

"Here. I'll find a picture on my phone. They were ROUND bones! About as long as your arm."

"The only animal with round bones like you're describing, like found in the yard, and round, with no meat on it, is a turkey, or a chicken. Unless you mean those ring kind of round. Like the cooking shows, where they eat bone marrow out of the middle."

"That's not what they were. HERE! Look at this: it says a PORK FEMUR. See? They come wrapped in plastic. Some of my bones was wrapped in plastic, but some was loose."

"OH! So you mean it's like somebody got a bunch of them, like from insurance salvage or going out of business, and divided them up into boxes."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Didn't every dog that walked by try to get inside at those bones?"

"No. I kept the box outside, beside me, and I'd hand out a bone to the dogs."

"Well. It seems like a regular dog biscuit would be easier. If I was walking around with my dog, I wouldn't want to deal with a slippery pork femur."

"They come in beef, too."

One of these days, I'm going to learn not to ask for details...