This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle and we have an epidemic on our paws.  I think it is presents from heaven, but Girl Person uses the word epidemic.

Every night on our walk, we get to see all kinds of things.  Sea ducks and sea gulls.  Bo the cat on a leash, Amy my girlfriend and also Sir Benny.  We also keep our noses close to the ground on the lookout, I mean sniff out, for chicken bones.  And we always find them.

Where do all of these chicken bones come from? Are persons walking around all day long in the street eating chicken wings and being happy with pants on and then throwing them on the ground? Are monsters going into people’s trash cans and pulling out chicken bones and throwing them on the ground as some kind of warning to us all?  I have no idea. But thank you persons or monsters, or whoever.

It’s not like we find steak bones.  Or zucchinis.  Or cucumbers or pizza in the road for that matter.  Chicken bones, chicken bones, chicken bones. Girl Person says she is tired of prying them from our mouths and whoever is doing this must be stopped.  But who can stop them?  I am the Sheriff and I am definitely not arresting them.  I am giving them an award.  So who?  Donald Trump? No, he is too busy running for President.  What about Digby? NO, he has the bones in this mouth.  Boy Person? Nope, he’s a vegetarian.  So it’s up to you I guess.  Problem is, if you stop the chicken bone party, I have to arrest you. Makes total sense, eh?

Needless to say I am looking forward to our evening walk.  I hope wherever our travels lead us this year that there are chicken bones along the way.

-Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle