It amazes me how we’re just born with these natural instincts. Like when Grady closes his eyes because the sun is glaring in them or even when he just sucks on his bottle and knows how to eat. I didn’t have to teach him those things. He did it all on his own.

Unfortunately, Hammy was born with some instincts of his own. Poor dog has never had a yard. Never had a place to dig and bury a bone yet he knows that is his mission in life. We give him a bone and he spends a good hour crying and searching for a place to hide his treasure. Scratching at our mattress. Pawing through the floor. Desperately tugging away at the cushions on the couch. I imagine he’s thinking, “Who does a dog have to screw around here for a little dirt?”
Some instincts are a curse.