Fido Cares, Too

Dogs may be our most loyal companions, but they’re still capable of disagreeing with us — just because they’re wagging their tails at the heaping mound of processed pellets we place before them, it doesn’t mean they actually prefer to eat dog food.

Take my dog Chelsea, for instance. While at first glance it may appear as if she is some sort of living vacuum cleaner, she is actually rather picky. Her world of food is divided by as much hierarchy as ours is:

Medicine < Vegetables < Vegetables covered in BBQ sauce < Water < Processed dog food < Whatever I'm eating [minus vegetables] < Raw Meat

There is a science to choosing food. For example, when I go to a restaurant, I scan the menu for acceptable dishes. I immediately rule out any entrée that contains rosemary, dill, or things with French names I can’t pronounce. I compare the beef dishes to whatever pan-seared tuna the restaurant may offer, briefly check the pasta section for some sort of wild mushroom ravioli, and make my decision based on which description most lusciously represents its corresponding dish.

Chelsea is no different. She can’t read, but she has a damn good nose, and she uses it in lieu of literacy. “This hunk of cheese smells way better than that wilted piece of lettuce,” she thinks to herself as she scans the kitchen floor for renegade food. “I shall choose the cheese.”

Sure, I wouldn’t personally opt for the three-day old popcorn kernel on the sidewalk, but hey, to each dog their own.

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