You see, every time I go to the market, I buy a different brand of Generic Cereal. The stuff that looks like if you planted it in the backyard, you would get a bagel growing. Bagel Seeds.
I mean, Cheerios look like bagel seeds, so you end up getting … well never mind, that simile is stretched to its breaking point.
However you could do worse. One Gram Of Sugar, It’s Not A Lot. Per serving that is. I’m taller than average, so I have one and a half grams in my own Moose Sized Servings.
However, Rack, The McNab SuperDog (TM) knows though that I can be a soft touch.
He follows me around the kitchen and watches. Since the world is not sized for my own Six-Foot-Four-Inch-One-Hundred-Ninety-Three-Centimeter, 220-Pound-One-Hundred-Kilo frame, I drop things. Constantly. Reach into the ice bin in the fridge and I get my five cubes for coffee and drop one.
That hardened into a ritual where he hears the freezer door open, listen for the rattle of my right hand grabbing those cubes, and he gets up and pads into there and waits.
Which is to say I get twin laser beams of brown eyes staring a hole through me.
First mug of coffee ONLY. I merely say when I hear him get up, “Nope”, and he sits down when I go in for the second mug of coffee.
Being a dog of a lifetime. he currently speaks English well enough that I am learning Spanish to avoid him knowing when I am doing something. Yeah right, he has figured out that he can also go into the kitchen when I am getting a snack. Bilingual dog in the making. What’s next, sign language?
Like those Bagel Seeds. Generic, of course.
The Generic ones come in various kinds. The best tasting ones are the ones with mostly oats, and wheat instead of only oats. The “real” cheerios are Gluten Free and taste like cardboard, only cardboard. Ok, not quite so bad, they taste like Only Oats which can be fine in making oatmeal with milk and a blob of lemon curd on top and …
But the Generic-with-wheat fake-Cheerios that I like taste sweeter. No more added sugar, I hope, but I’ll eat them out of hand standing in the middle of the kitchen dropping them on my damn boot as they roll under the refrigerator.
Being a dog, he’s also part vacuum cleaner. He’ll trot in there and vacuum up the things.
Being me, I upgraded him. Once.
I took a handful of the bagel seeds and put them in his bowl. Add milk. Just a splash.
Now, my dog, is broke. This dog who has the genetics of being the smartest creature in the pasture has learned that I have the power of milk.
Yes, you guessed it. He won’t eat them if I don’t put the milk over them and merely gives me That Stare.
“Where’s my milk?!?!?!”
Indeed. “I didn’t even give myself any milk!”
I ignored him and put the cereal away. He walked to his hiding corner next to my big green chair and waited.
When I finally sat down he decided it was not going to happen, fifteen minutes later, and had his treat without milk.
I have GOT to stop feeding this dog people food!
It’s bad enough that he knows that the rawhides are stored within reach of my desk.
He’ll do the same thing. Walk to my left elbow. Wag his tail for attention. Stare holes in me, wait for me to ask “What? Show me!”. Pad over to the rawhide bag and then lasers.
A beggar of my own creation!