I eventually realized that those little snots were eating the compost!!! I tried to bury the food items under the pile of grass, but Diva went in for the kill and dug through until she got what she wanted. So, after I was sick of her face being COMPLETELY crusted over with disgusting, rotting food, I had Bryce make me a compost bin. He took a regular galvanized trash can, drilled some holes in the bottom and voila! Our composter was born.
I sat it in the corner behind the little shed we have in the back yard to hide it...I mean it is a silver trash can, not very aesthetically pleasing. One day about two weeks ago, I was cleaning out the fridge and was taking stuff back to the compost. As I went back out on my second trip, I saw Moose and Diva, both looking very conspicuous. I walked over to Moose and realized that he had a HUGE chunk of pretzel in his mouth. (Mind you, this thing was covered in mold when i through it out...) I did everything short of tackling the dang dog - stepping on his feet, pulling his tail, pulling on his ears which he HATES - and couldn't get his jaws of steel open to take it out. It was absolutely hilarious because he WAS NOT surrendering and giving this thing up, and it was obvious that his mouth was full of something. He obviously thought he could out smart me, because he wouldn't chew it when I looked at him, but the second I turned away he started smacking...this went on for a good five minutes before I just gave up.
Yesterday, I was taking some stuff out to the compost and I apparently had forgotten to latch the lid shut because there it was in its full glory laying on the ground...and I knew who was responsible. After I gave Moose the good what-for, I put the lid on and we went back inside. A few minutes later, I heard him coughing and weezing in the kitchen. I didn't really think anything of it because those of you that know Moose know he makes the weirdest noises. We should've named in Chubacca (sp??) like the wuzzy guy from Star Wars.
Well anyway, so I hear this wheezing and coughing and all of the sudden I hear it. I knew exactly what had just happened. MOOSE HAD BARFED ALL OVER MY KITCHEN FLOOR. He stood there and looked at me, as if he was saying "Welp, clean it up, Mom!" I stood there for a second thinking a few things: 1. Would he try to clean it up himself (GROSS.) and 2. What would be the best plan of attack for this cow-patty sized pile of vomit. I grabbed some saran wrap to keep my hands from getting dirty, held my breath and went in for the kill. It was by far one of the NASTIEST things I've ever had to clean up, and that includes when the triplets would throw up on me.