Creating the Monster

It's my own fault. I feel manipulated. Used. And I have nobody to blame but myself.

Let me explain.

We have a wonderful dog named Sabbie. He's an American Eskimo, getting up there in years. In people years he'd get free coffee at McDonalds.

About a year ago the vet put Sabbie on a prescription diet for dogs with kidney disease. Although the food looked and smelled pretty nasty to me, Sabbie didn't seem to mind it. That is, until a couple months ago, when he abruptly stopped eating it. For a while I could get him to eat from my hand (yuck), but after a while he just stuck up his nose and walked away.

I wondered why we couldn't feed Sabbie people food. I mean people with kidney diseases have special diets, right? Why don't we 'just' feed him people food?

I did a search on the itnernet and found a recipe that included ground beef, bread, rice, eggs, and (not kidding) tums. The vet approved and so did Sabbie. He gobbled it up like there was no tomorrow.

After a couple weeks, he stopped eating again. The vet found nothing physically wrong with him, and said we could feed him whatever he wants.

Enter the monster. Let's just say that Sabbie eats better than the rest of us. This morning he woke me up for breakfast and I prepared him a delightful meal of chicken strips and bread. He has requested chicken parmisan for dinner, with a side of noodles. (I'm drawing the line at lobster!)

Dave came home from Food Lion the other day and showed me some special frozen fahita chicken that he purchased for Sabbie. When I commented that it looked pretty tasty, he warned me that it was for Sabbie, and not me.

It may have been my imagination, but I think I heard Sabbie snickering at me.