Dad had been traveling quite a bit after the start of the New Year. He was gone so much that Mongo and Drewbie started to notice the absence of his jovial presence in their everyday routine. However, Dad did manage to zip home for a quick weekend in Seattle, and Mongo made no bones about his expectations. Read More…
Mongo is a talented dog, and his problem solving abilities are quite impressive, at least when it comes to solving problems related to getting more food. This morning, as Dad and Mr. M walked past a neighbor’s driveway, Mongo locked up in a point.
Normally, this posture is reserved for birds, squirrels, cats, etc. However, when Dad looked to see what had caught Mongo’s attention, nothing jumped out at Dad, literally or figuratively. Dad scanned the area for a moment. Then he realized what had caught Mongo’s eye.
This modern day version of hardtack, albeit with some leavening and shortening, is produced today by Interbake Foods of Richmond, Virginia. Alaskan law requires all light aircraft to carry “survival gear”, including food. So, the blue-and-white Sailor Boy Pilot Bread boxes are ubiquitous at Alaskan airstrips, in cabins, and virtually every village.¹
98% of the Pilot Bread is sold in Alaska. However, Drewbie found some in a local market in Northwest Washington State. He decided to surprise Dad by bringing some home.
Back in the day, Uncle Marc and Dad had feasted on hardtack from K-rations whenever Grandpa came back from maneuvers. Canned eggs and ham, hardtack, and waxy chocolate were among their favorite eats.
Dad and Drewbie each enjoyed one palm-sized Pilot Bread cracker as soon as Drewbie brought them home. Dad reminisced about the good old days, and about opening dinner with a genuine p51 can opener, and drinking hot chocolate from a canteen cup. However, after one cracker each, they both decided they had had enough. They each grabbed a glass of water to wash down the rather dry delicacy. The box of Pilot Bread box sat on the counter for several days, undisturbed until…
Another one buddy”, Dad asked ask he scooped up another pile for this morning’s walk. Dad knew something was amiss with Mongo. Mongo is typically a digestive machine. Two cups of kibble every morning and night yield one bag of dog poop every morning and night. But here was Dad in the cold light of a winter’s dawn making multiple scoops.
For some reason Mongo was off schedule. The evidence was that Dad was on his third baggie of the morning. His first thought when Mongo hunched up the second time was that Mongo had one more piece to poop out, a Clingon if you will. That has not been the case. Instead of one more little turd, Mongo had made an entire second load. And when he finished the second load, he had started a third.
Dad pondered the situation and asked aloud, “I wonder what he ate?”