Relative Something

A couple of days ago, back before weather conditions turned Arctic overnight, I let Asher lead an off-the-trails exploration through our woods. He stopped at this downed tree and began frantically chewing on it, I’m guessing because he detected some delicious-smelling critter hiding in the middle.

There was nowhere else I needed to be so I granted him full freedom to gnaw away to his heart’s content.

It was a pretty big tree. I thought it looked like a lot of wasted effort but Asher chomped away with a confidence that indicated satisfaction with the progress he was achieving.

I started to get bored watching him work so I read some news on my phone and played my turns on “Words with Friends.” Asher continued to attack the tree trunk with reckless abandon.

I thought about sitting down nearby to rest my eyes for a while. Asher looked like he was willing to bite off splinters until he reached what I assume he hoped would be a chewy center. I always respect his determination.

He outlasted my patience. I began to wonder if he was choosing to stay at it out of embarrassment over the possibility of giving up before he got to the hollow center. Maybe interrupting him is what a friend would do.

I pulled out a treat and waved it in front of his nose. When he turned in my direction, I began walking away with it. Asher followed me, but I would describe it as begrudgingly. It worked though. I saved him from any embarrassment.

We made our way toward the perimeter trail in search of other adventures.

The next day, when we found ourselves bushwhacking in that same vicinity again, that tree held no interest to him whatsoever. Maybe no critters were at home by that time.

Or maybe it’s just that Asher’s fixations are fickle.

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