Monday, November 05, 2007
I gave Arthur an organic beef bone the other day, something he'd never had before, thinking that he would go beserk with joy in an all-out, lip-smacking, meat-eating frenzy. A big, sinewy bone! All to himself! What dog wouldn't love that?
But, as it turns out, Arthur is a dog a bit out of touch with his inner animal: he did not know what to do with that bone. I actually had to hold it up in the air for him to sniff because when I put it on the ground he just stared at it. At the meaty, stinky, smoked cow bone. What is that, exactly? Good lord.
I mean, I AM the kind of person who will buy my dog a $100 bed, build him a fort, and home cook his food, but I'm not so crazy as to hold a bone aloft for him so he can get his teeth around it. I may be a fool, but I'm not a sucker. (I can feel you smirking, Chris.)
Eventually, he grasped the bone-crunching concept and got to work, but not before I questioned his very existence as canis lupus familiaris. It made me think of Chevy Chase in that movie where he reincarnates as a dog in order to solve his own murder, and spends most of the film as Benji. Maybe Arthur is really a human. Maybe he's just biding his time until he can make off with my car and my checkbook.
Let's just hope he never gets lost in the wild.