Snickers, my Cavalier, has an uncanny sense for the meat counter. Last Tuesday I was standing there squinting at a tub of “premium freeze-dried food topper” priced at $34.99, and he was already tugging me two feet to the left, right toward the tray of chicken gizzards. Two dollars a pound. Two. I’ve been buying … Read more
Last Tuesday I looked up from the couch just in time to see Snickers, my Cavalier, planting his back end on the living room rug and pulling himself forward with his front paws. Slow, deliberate, focused. Like a furry Roomba on a mission. You know the move. Every dog owner does. And you know exactly … Read more
Saturday morning. I’d just walked back into the kitchen with my coffee and saw Snickers, my Cavalier, sitting perfectly still in front of the pantry door. Not whining. Not scratching. Just staring at the door like a monk mid-prayer. He knew where the yellow box lived. I pulled it out. That familiar Milk-Bone rattle. He … Read more
Snickers wouldn’t stop pacing by the mudroom door. My friend Marko had just walked in with a Ziploc bag of ground venison from his October harvest, and my Cavalier had clocked it before the door even closed. He sat by my feet with the exact posture he uses when he wants something. Ears back, tail … Read more
The first time I cooked chicken liver for Snickers, my Cavalier, I ruined a wooden spoon and almost lost a kitchen towel to the dog. He’d been napping in the hallway like a tiny loaf of bread. The second I peeled back the butcher paper, he teleported. Paws on the cabinet, eyes locked on the … Read more
Last Sunday I had a stockpot on the stove with beef knuckle bones, an onion, and a few carrots. Snickers planted himself under the kitchen table around hour two, eyes locked on me, doing that polite-but-extremely-loud whining thing only a Cavalier can pull off when food smells get involved. I scooped him a little of … Read more
The first time I cooked chicken thighs for Snickers, my Cavalier, it was almost an accident. I’d grabbed a family pack at the grocery store thinking I’d batch a few weeknight dinners for myself. Then I started reading about pancreatitis in dogs and how a fatty meal can trigger it, and I started looking sideways … Read more
The butcher slid the paper-wrapped bundle across the counter and shrugged. “Two dollars a pound. Nobody wants it.” I’d asked for beef liver on a whim. Snickers, my Cavalier, had been turning his nose up at his fancy “premium” kibble for almost a week. The bag cost me $68. The look on his face when … Read more
Snickers was nine months into eating the same premium kibble when I noticed the itching. Not constant. Just enough that I’d hear him scratching at 3 a.m. and roll over thinking he’d stop in a minute. He never did. I cleaned every blanket in the house. Switched detergents. Wiped his paws every time he came … Read more
Snickers was sitting on my foot. Not next to me. On my foot. Full weight, ears forward, doing that slow blink that basically translates to “I know there’s food happening up there.” I’d just gotten home from work, hadn’t even changed yet, and the treat jar on the counter was empty. Again. I’d been meaning … Read more