“Do you want some p-o-p-c-o-r-n?”  Dear Hubby asked.

     Two sets of ears perked up.  Gavin’s head tilted to the right and Patty’s head tilted to left. 

     “Uh oh, I think they’ve learned to spell that,” I said. 

     “You keep them out here and I’ll start it.”  (Fat chance of doing that.)  Gavin beat him to the kitchen and Patty was on his heels.  “Not for you.  For us,” He told them.

     From the living room, I told Dear Hubby, “Yeah right.  Say that all you want they’ll still mooch some.”

     Dear Hubby got so he didn’t like microwaved pop corn so we recently bought a hot air popper-cost a whole fifteen dollars.  We had one many years ago when we were first married.  At the time, we also had a German shepherd and as soon as we’d turn on the popper, he’d be right by the counter to catch any strays that popped out of the bowl and landed on floor.

     I’m not surprised that these two English Bull Terriers have already figured out the same thing.  Both were happily playing the outfield while the bowl filled.

     While we munched they mooched.  Patty is very good at catching pop flies.  Gavin prefers grounders I think he has trouble focusing on small moving objects.