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Finicky

It’s a Dog’s Life . . .


ME: [Talking to Dog] Here’s what I don’t understand. If I let you, you will eat leaves. You will eat sticks. You will eat rocks. You will lick my toes. You will smell other dogs’ butts. You will lick another dog’s private parts. Hell, you even lick your own. You will eat your own puke. When I take you on a walk, you will eat scat from other animals. You will even eat your own.


But when I put down your dinner you turn your nose up at it. I have tried kibbles. I have tried PetFresh. I have tried Farmers, Nom Nom, Blue and I have even cooked your own special blend. Still you refuse to eat it unless it has been home-made and prepared by the hands of little abuelitas in their own kitchens using only farm fresh organic ingredients and prime cuts of Kobe beef.


What’s up with that?


DOG: It’s a dog’s prerogative to be choosy.


ME: Open the wine.

DOG: I prefer champagne.


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