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| By baying, begging or outright thievery, I was getting me some turkey! |
Example: Each afternoon, when I venture out for a walk, I aim toward the SmartPak horse and dog gear store in Natick. It proffers much of what a hound would love: doting fans, food, and irresistible odors. Seemingly uncharacteristically, I often eschew the food, not wanting to muddy the splendid scents emanating from horse leather and equine-loving people.
Last week, however, I traversed the entire store, took in all I wanted, and found I wanted more: the treats at the counter.
Skeptical, expecting me to spit it out, Mom insisted I sit for the first one. I grudgingly submitted. "Only crumbs left, Tucker," she said, knowing that I prefer my treats large and unbroken. She turned to leave. I did not. These treats were so good, I just had to see for myself.
I rested my paws on the counter. A sign on the treat bowl read "Help Yourself." I did.
Now, I am not a clumsy sort, so I neatly scooped up a couple of crumbs. I needed more. I jumped again, deftly knocking the bowl and its contents to the ground. First I cleaned the bowl.
Then I cleaned the rug.
Mom was astounded. True, I never eat off the floor. But I knew something she didn't. Those treats were made of turkey. That morning, I nearly bagged a turkey in the Hunnewell Woods, but Dad wouldn't let me. All day, I'd been dreaming of turkey. Obsessing over turkey. Salivating over turkey. And I got it: Wellness Pure Rewards Turkey Jerky. At last.
