Sorry, guys and gals, I can’t tell this story without using such indelicate language, but still I hope it is a story you will enjoy.
This is Dee-oh-Gee (D-O-G) and you are not going to believe me when I tell you how spoiled my Dee-oh-Gee-Dog is. How I cater to him to make his life the very best it can be. How much time and effort I put into his meals.
First off we have a wooden bowl because he prefers to eat outside on the deck. The other puppies eat in the hall out of metal dishes but D-O-G has this wooden bowl so that in cold weather his tongue will not stick to his dish. And for dinner we have a grand assortment like you see here.
Canned moist food, moist crumbles, dry food, and a cooked bit of meat scraps, that must not be clamored together or he just turns his nose up in disgust.
Amazingly too, if bowl is not washed daily, he will also refuse to eat. And the garnish, as silly as it sounds, serves a solid purpose. D-O-G doesn’t know when he is hungry. But once he eats the garnish which he eventually does, the digestive juices start flowing, and then he realizes that it is time to chow down.
So every day, just before our dinner hour, I go through the same routine. Dicing up cooked meat scraps, sorting out his menu, and garnishing the plate with small treats.
Still, despite all my efforts, D-O-G does not think for one fleeting moment that he is treated as royally as I think he is. Now this past week for four days, D-O-G did not eat a thing. Not a bloody thing. I did everything to enhance those already grand meals to no avail. He just sniffed at the bowl and walked away.
I was tired and cranky with catering to him. And close to tears with exasperation when I saw D-O-G out on the deck sniffing the contents of his wooden bowl and yet again walking away in a huff.
That’s when I said to Hub, “Hub, look at D-O-G. Refusing his food again. I make him the best meals and despite all my efforts he hasn’t eaten a thing for four days. I’m tired of making his exotic meals. The other two dogs don’t care how their food is arranged or if their dish is sparkling clean. But that dog…I’m bloody fed up with him. I might as well quit all the effort and give him shit for dinner!”
In that very instant, D-O-G heard me and plunged into the house through the dog door and did a happy twirling dog dance for the other puppies in the middle of the kitchen. Gyrating like a fool and yelling at the other puppies in dog language, “Woohoo! I’m getting shit for dinner! I’m getting shit for dinner!”
“No way,” said old dog. “You’re not getting shit for dinner. You know the rule. We never get shit for dinner or any other time. It’s not allowed!”
D-O-G just snickered. “I am so getting Shit for dinner. And I’m going to eat up everything in my wooden bowl right now, cause next meal, Roberta said, I heard her…that I’m getting Shit for dinner!”
I was so relieved to see that D-O-G finally ate all his food. Please don't tell him even though you and I know that it’s all a misunderstanding. He doesn't need to know he will NOT be getting Shit for dinner.
It's probably better this way cause as long as hope and faith exist, maybe he will eat his regular food each day in cheerful anticipation of that which he thinks will eventually happen.