A lesson for Myrtle...

Myrtle could learn a lesson from my beloved Aunt Leslie: A proper understanding of the giving of treats.

You see, Myrtle does not really give me treats.  Recently, a Facebook friend of her recommended giving me biscuits. I wanted to knock Myrtle off the keyboard to let that woman know how deprived I am.  Dog biscuits?  I don't even know what those are.  My puppy momma, in two long years of raising me, has never bought me a single box.  Not one.

Myrtle would like for me to tell you that there is a reason for this, but her reasons are specious.  Myrtle says that the reason she does not buy and give me dog biscuits is because she lets me clean all the plates and will even give me a bit or two from her own meal.  She said I do not need biscuits.  She wrong.
All dogs need dog biscuits. Period.  All other reasoning regarding dog biscuits is false!

Myrtle does give me treats, after a fashion, but only really, really, really teeny tiny ones.  Here are ones that she bought most recently in a small jelly jar.  Believe it or not, they are the largest treats she has ever purchased for me.  I suppose I should be grateful.

However, the only way for me to actually get to consume these treats is if I do my major business out of doors.  That's it.  Nothing else.  So, once or twice a day, I can "earn" a mere morsel.  The brown squares and the orange circles, both soft, disappear with just a single bite.  The microscopic bones are crunchy, so they take another chew.    Really, I barely taste them because one or two chews and they are gone.

But is that really what treats are for? I mean, how is it a "treat" if I have to perform to "earn" one? After all, a treat is "an event or item that is out of the ordinary and gives great pleasure."

Trust me, doing major business out of doors is neither out of the ordinary or gives me great pleasure.  It is normal, ordinary, customary.  It should not be a requirement to receive a treat.

Now, my beloved Aunt Leslie knows this.  Nearly every single time she comes to visit, even if she has run an errand for my puppy momma, Aunt Leslie brings me treats. She either brings me a new baby or she brings me tasty treats.  And not only does she bring me tasty treats, she opens the container and gives me many of them right away.  One. Two.  Five.  Six.  Ten. Twelve.  There is no requirements for me to "earn" Aunt Leslie's treats.  She just heaps them upon me unconditionally.  SIGH.

These are the last treats that Aunt Leslie brought.  She bought them because she knows that Myrtle is very, very selfish about her bacon.  She never shares it with me.  DOUBLE SIGH.

So, Aunt Leslie bought me my very own bacon, puppy dog bacon if you will.  She bought it for me, brought it to me, opened the container, and proceeded to give me an entire handful of the tasty treats. Have I mentioned that I love my Aunt Leslie??

Myrtle?  Well, after Aunt Leslie left, my puppy momma put the bacon treats in the jar and closed the lid.  It has not been opened since.

Myrtle's reasoning is that I should finish up my other treats before starting in on these.  She also told me that they really should be broken into smaller pieces.  Pieces?  Who breaks bacon into pieces?

I love my puppy momma.  I honestly do.  I just wish she would learn the proper understanding on treats from my Aunt Leslie.  To put it in terms Myrtle might grasp:  Treats are Gospel, not Law.


This is my life with Myrtle.  Amos Adams signing off.