“groovy mother...”

Clyde chows down on a tasty, tasty beef bone, left over from Christmas dinner's prime rib.

Bacon has had this bone since February. He hides it, then a few hours later "finds" it again, before marching around the house with it for a few minutes looking for a new hiding place. Ad nauseam.

My parents' dogs got similar bones, which they devoured in five minutes flat. I like to think that Bacon's just making economical use of the entertainment value of his bone.