There's a blog that comes up just about every time I click on next blog. I wouldn't want to embarass the writer. I'm sure the entry was written with great excitement and love. Warm fuzzies on overload. The top entry is a few weeks old, but features a photo of what I believe to be a poodle of some variety eating what I believe to be birthday cake. I've never read the article. My gag reflexes are too strong.
I always assume it's the dog's birthday. I give the owner credence for not feeding it at the table or counter.
So here's this photo of a dog eating birthday cake. Innocent enough. Not for me. Of the five senses, my sense of smell is probably my second top feature. Number one being my ears, but that's for another day. I digress. This photo of a dog eating his/her cake stimulates an odor memory. My mother's three little dogs used to smell like sour spaghetti. Hopefully you're asking me why the dogs periodically smelled like sour spaghetti.
These little dogs were of the long hair variety. Pekingese, with flat little faces, bulging eyes and grunting snorting little mouths. I don't remember caring too much for them. I liked to call them and hear them race down the hallway to my room. With some speed and accuracy, they could make the top of the bed without breaking too much stride.
When mealtimes were over, my mother would put down plates for them to lick. I never thought much of this. It was a way of life. The dogs licked the plates after dinner.
On a side note, I remember one afternoon when I was in my twenties and visiting my husband at work. I grabbed a pot out of the kitchen at his work and used it water my dog. He'd been waiting in the car under a tree, but he was still thirsty. Some lady there came unglued. I thought she was being a witch. In my confident twenties I ignored her. Looking back, I think she was right. Although soap and hot water kills pretty much anything, dogs lick their butts and that's gross. I'll give her that one.
Back to the spaghetti. On night we had spaghetti--which seems like an awful lot--the dogs would get to lick the spaghetti plates clean. However, on these nights, their fur would go rancid or something because the odor was overwhelming. I told my mom not to feed them the spaghetti. It made their fur around their faces smell. She looked at my like I had two noses. I tried to wipe them clean with a washcloth.
Now that's gross.
I added soap. Nothing seemed to take that smell away. I hated it. I'm sure there are a lot of other reasons why I don't like my cats on the counter, or let them eat human food. For some reason seeing this little dog eating birthday cake over and over again sends my nose into the olfactory stratosphere.
As of my last visit, my parents still give their annoying dog human "type" food. Two eggs. That goofy dog gets two eggs most days. They buy Sam's Choice dog food she can poop out all over the yard because it's full of corn. Then they give her an egg or two every day. That means every 12 days they are spending a couple bucks on eggs for this dog. That's a little over 30 DOZEN eggs for those doing the math. That's about $75 dollars a year on eggs--for a dog--even if the eggs are cheap.
My counter argument would be to skip the egg, spend the $10 more a month on some decent food. That will probably slim her down and keep her from pooping 100 times a day. They don't go for it. The egg seems to help her--the dog--in some way that only they--my parents--are aware of.
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