by Peggy Zortman

FARMER’S MARKET

     Chase here, former Shelter Dog reporting.

      Just have to tell you about the Farmer’s Market.

      When the weather is warm Mister and Missus like to preserve vegetables and fruits. That means they fix it somehow so it still tastes good when the weather is cold. 

      I can do without the vegetables: corn-on-the-cob is good though. I’ve rescued an ear or two that were slightly used. The fruit isn’t that good fresh, but you should taste those blueberry muffins and that peach cobbler! Missus promised me some of the cherry pie too. But I digress. (That means I took a detour from what I really wanted to tell you).

      The garden on the Summit didn’t do well this year, so my family has been traveling around to find the fresh stuff they want. Sometimes, I get to go along. That’s how I got to know about Farmers’ Markets.

      From what I’ve seen, a Farmer’s Market is usually a bunch of humans walking around, talking and looking at stuff on tables. I’ve smelled some good stuff but I’ve never been invited to sample anything; I do like the attention I get though.

      The other day we went where I had never been. When I got out of our car, the “Chick Magnet”, I knew right away this would be a good one. I could smell food.

      The first booth (that’s what Mister calls the tables) had bread, cake and cookies. I like cookies. I walked right over, sat down and stared at the lady behind the table; that usually works at home. (I’ve learned that humans don’t want me to ask, so I stare at the food with a glance at the human who can provide it). Sure enough, the lady started to laugh and asked Mister if she could share a bite of cookie with me.

      Mister hesitated, but finally said yes and I got a generous piece of what the lady called a “broken cookie”.

      We moved on with both Mister and Missus talking and looking and filling bags with stuff that didn’t interest me; I couldn’t get my mind off that cookie and the part I left behind.

      Mister stopped to talk to someone and I sat patiently waiting like a good dog should– but that cookie kept calling my name until I just couldn’t stand it.

      With one hard, surprise tug, Mister dropped my leash and I was off like a shot. I knew how to find that cookie; but there were people and booths in my way. I zigged and I zagged and finally reached the booth, the lady and the cookie.

      I sat. I stared. 

      The lady saw me and started to laugh. I looked around to see a growing pack of people gathering behind me. About that time Mister caught up. He was huffing and puffing and out of breath, (he needs more exercise) and he wasn’t happy. It looked like other out of breath people had followed him.

      Then I heard the lady say, “Could he have another wee piece of cookie? He really seemed to like that first bite.”

      Mister gave in and this time I got the whole cookie. We took the whole bag full with us – and as we walked away I heard someone ask for a bag full of those dog-approved cookies.

      This is Chase signing out.