In college, I had a half Lab, half German Shepeherd named “Primo.” The Boola-Boola Dog was quite the campus cruiser. In fact, my senior year, the dog catcher finally caught Primo. Paul Blart with a net acted like he won the lottery. But I digress.

Primo was known for arriving back home with a variety of “found” treasures. One day, he bopped in with an entire BBQ’ed chicken in his mouth. In fact, the intact, cooked chicken still had the spit traversing through the body. I’d shudder at the reaction of the backyard chef when returning to the grill only to find it empty. Exactly how this dog navigated a hot grill is a mystery he took with him.

While more of a Robin Hood story than Freegan, I still get a chuckle when thinking back to that afternoon.

Doug