Many years ago, my young son picked his toenails till he got them infected. He also had an adoring beagle who made his every step, especially when John was snacking and likely to drop crumbs. I don’t think John ever had to pick anything up. In most cases, that’s good, but not necessarily since Spotty spent a good bit of her time dancing on his sore toes. Eventually, John required toenail removal. Surgery went fine, and in the way of small boys, John proudly saved the excised tissue to show his dad, once he got in. Spotty never left his side. John convalesced on the sofa with his poor foot on a pillow all afternoon, admiring his sore toe, his toe remnant, and calling out for games and snacks. As you might expect, long before his dad got home, he dropped his trophy. Ever faithful, Spotty snapped it up before it hit the floor. Both recovered, though John was heartbroken. To the best of my knowledge, that’s the last body part Spotty ever snacked on.
<img
Nutsrok
The humor and humanity of storytelling.
Search
Nutsrok 
BLECH! :-D
LikeLike
I thought it was loyalty, but Spotty was obviously just waiting for a snack.
LikeLike
She was a snack hound. Picked the right boy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great story! As a doctor when I was training in surgery and doing on calls some people were very curious and wanted to see everything (and yes, keep things) and others quite the opposite. I don’t think nowadays it would happen as everything is kept and tested (almost) but…
LikeLiked by 1 person
He was disappointed but, oh well.
LikeLike
Some folks bite their nails. I had a very flexible cousin who bit her toenails…seriously bad habit. ☺
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is a sweet (and sad) story. I lost both of my big toenails a few years ago but had no intention of keeping them. On the other side of your story, we had a little dog named (Joie) who had incredible hearing. I would know I was in the kitchen making something even though he was in our room in his crate sleeping (the door was never shut because he was a rescue and that was his “safe place”. Joie would be right there to get whatever fell. He knew sounds like cheese wrappers, tuna cans (probably the smell more), chip bags, etc. I love the relationship between John and Spotty.
LikeLike
He got a big kick out of it and still enjoys it.
LikeLike
That’s pretty gruesome, but no more so, than people that saved their gall stones in a jar on the mantle. Not me, once they’re gone they’re gone–out of sight out of mind.
LikeLiked by 1 person
When I went to visit a great-aunt in Virginia at least fifty years after my grandmother had her gall-bladder out way over in Texas. My aunt had my grandmother’s gall stones in a jar on her what-not shelf. She’d always been crazy about my grandmother and said it made her feel closer to have a little remembrance. Must do a post on that one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
These would make great tabloid headlines.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My family could support National Enquirer!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Unfortunately, my OCD kicked in, and I wondered what an appropriate song, or greeting card would be for this subject. Perhaps–“It’s the Little Things That Remind Me Of You.” There was a Three Dog Night Song–“I’ve Got Pieces of April (name could be changed). OK, I’m done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My father saved his gall stones – had them on his dresser when he lived with us. When he passed, that was one of the first things I got rid of!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Now what if you need to clone him.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha, I never thought of that! ;-)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Poor John! His dog ate his toenail! LOL!
LikeLike
Some people just can’t get a break!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know! Poor guy!
LikeLiked by 1 person