The bones of a good story...

Ah, the bounty of a snowless winter! Chicken bones. Spareribs. Hot dogs. And once, the grand prize—juicy remnants of beef tenderloin, snagged from behind a top restaurant. Quite a different scenario from last year, when I dutifully dug in a frozen snowbank for a bagel. This being New England, it wasn't even that good.

So when Mom presented me with a bona fide bone that I didn't have to scrounge for myself, I was mystified. It was kind of like being at a fancy dinner and having more tableware than usual. Just what does one do with that fourth fork?

Turns out that Mom's generosity had something to do with teeth cleaning. Not happy with the toothbrush results, she tried the old-fashioned thing, and my canines are gleaming. Kind of like whitening strips, but for dogs. Except much, much tastier.