Our kitchen must be a place of great mystery to the two dogs who live here. Leah and I are adventurous eaters, and in just the past week our kitchen has been filled with the aromas of Thai, Indian, Italian, and good old, red-white-and-blue ‘Mer-kin foods. Even when we’re not sitting down to a meal, our table is always decorated with some kind produce: Oranges from the market, or, this morning, eggs from our own chicken house.
I happen to think that Leah is as accomplished at cooking as Yo Yo Ma is when he draws a bow across the strings of his cello, or Picasso was when he put paint to canvas.
We keep our four-leggeds on their toes because we're forever introducing new scents. I watch with a grin on my face and a camera in my hand as the dog Buddha comes around to check out the aroma of the day. He sniffs from a polite distance, never close enough to get dog goobers on our human food.
He’s like a wine connoisseur checking the nose of a fine Cabernet.
