I roasted a chicken on Saturday night, and put the carcass in a plastic bag for H to take out to the trashcan.
Well, he took it and put it out on our patio table.
Toby smelled it and went wild trying to get to it.
Last night, H put the bag on the step to go into the garage (where our garbage cans are), and forgot about it.
This morning, he let Toby out and left him for a few minutes.
He looked outside and saw that Toby had found the bag, ripped it open, and had eaten half the carcass. He rushed outside and Toby started growling at him (which he NEVER does), and turning his body so that he was always between H and the bird.
He finally had to pry Toby's mouth open to get it out. He said that it didn't look like he'd actually gotten any of the bones, and I'm hoping he's right.
Bonus! Until Toby's rump is 100% healed, we can't give him a bath. Which means he's going to continue smelling like chicken grease for at least one more day.