Eat, puppy, eat.
For a big-time smotherer such as myself, a well-meaning enabler, a gal who enjoys watching others fress to their heart's content, the fact that the Eccentric Elderly Pup doesn't want to eat on cue pains the SJG to the depths of my being. It hurts. It hurts so much. Historically, eating has never been an issue for the canine I'm pretty sure I birthed, despite the lack of evidence. But lately, he eyes his kibble with ennui. As if to say, "This again?" Upon witnessing Dusty's rejection in action, the youngest tenant weighed in on the matter. "I'd get bored too if I had to eat that crap every day." "But he loves it," I insisted, despite the lack of evidence. What's a mamala like moi to do? Improvise. A bite of bagel brings a smile to Dusty's punim. A bisel banana, he'll gobble with glee. A schmear of cream cheese - nirvana. He's a Jewish dog, after all. These days, if I can tempt him with the food of his people, he'll eat. He can hardly wait till Passover. He's a big fan of matzoh.
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