If you have been into a grocery store in the last decade you have seen these:
I'm not really sure what is in them because I refuse to read the ingredients. They may have the souls of all of the unbaptized babies that died after Vatican II and no longer have a Limbo to go to as far as I know.
They look and smell sort of like an even cheaper version of those horrid pepperoni sticks I ate as a child because ... processed food! I wouldn't eat these things now even if I ate meat. Or dog treats. Or meat dog treats.
The first time the little dog had a small piece she had diarrhea for an entire day. And yet I buy them. Because they work. They take a little dog that has important smells to smell and things to check out and suddenly she's channeling her inner Border Collie on Ritalin and she's going in a serpentine over jumps and I'm just thinking about what direction she should go in and she's there.
(The bag has been on the counter less than 30 seconds and has already attracted three cats.)
So anyhow, yes, Pupperoni are awful and the rancid grease they leave on my fingers is just nasty. Ginger's not a particular fussy eater, and she will eat other treats. But when she's distracted, it's time to pull out the Pupperoni. Because I like to win.
No comments:
Post a Comment