It's a Dog Eat Surf & Turf World

If there is anyone on this planet who loves food more than I do, it is my dog. This is a tragedy as he pretty much eats shit and woodchip flavored dog food. Twice a day. Sometimes he gets a baby carrot as a midday snack. When he has an upset stomach he gets chicken and rice (which baffles me as to why he just doesn’t try and have an upset stomach or at least pretend to moan about a stomach ailment just so he doesn’t have to eat shit pebbles). Oh, and he only drinks water. We can usually trick him into thinking he’s getting a food treat by tossing him an ice cube. At first he gets so excited and chomps down on it like he just discovered the best food ever, but then quickly gets bored when he realizes it’s just turning into water. Every time.

Once,  I tasted his food because I thought for sure (by the way he got so damn excited when it was dinner time and inhaled it in mere seconds) it had to be the most delectable food on the planet. Wrong. As my chomping slowed down, my saliva seemed to vanish, and I began to dry heave, I looked down at the pained and tearful eyes staring back up at me. I had taken a bite of his precious, most treasured possession; his sheer motivation to exist each day.  I figured I’d better act like I thought it was as scrumptious as he did. So I slowly got it down as I “mmmmm’ed” and “ohhhhhh’ed” in its “deliciousness”.

I imagine this is how he relates food:

 

If I was having surf and turf for dinner everynight, Id get pretty excited too.





Midday sushi snack? Don’t mind if I do!



This is some good comfort food but I ordered the surf and turf…

 Now, when I’m eating in front of him I try not to get too excited or vocal about its delightfulness. I don’t want him to know that his food sucks and my food doesn’t. I feel guilty enough that the poor guy will never get to have sex. Although he tries. A lot. But that’s for another blog…