Sticking Points
Apr 29th, 2009 by Marilyn
With all due respect to my husband, daughter, mother and beyond, my favorite family member is the lowliest in our pack. Cleo is simple, and I mean simple, as in, she could be permanent cover girl for Really Real Simple.
Cleo is three, but never had terrible twos. She is happy to see everyone, especially mailmen bringing bills; she is overjoyed to carry the paper, full of bad news; she does not mind the rain, does not need cool boots, has a conspicuous lack of shame and requires no products for greater volume and shine.
She has no vices to speak of, but Cleo likes to chew sticks.
I am Cleo’s feeder. She might follow big-sister Josie and worship her master Greg, but I am the feeder. A little water in the dish, two scoops of pricey organic food, and then – here’s where culinary school and a decade of foodservice come into play – I do a one-handed, clockwise swirl and jump the food against the bowl. If the Food Network Dog Feeder Challenge ever calls, I’m ready.
Simple to feed and simple to snack – no foodie, all she needs to do is find the right stick.
Cleo, can I get you something with that? Pellegrino with lime? Dirty jalapeno martini?
You’re sniffing. Is that stick okay? More cumin, less oregano? Maybe next time, try a curried stick.
Ah, intermezzo. Spoonful of prawn-plum mousse, some green tea-grapefruit sorbet? Nothing?
You know, that is one nice stick. It really deserves a light panko crust, or balsamic, or some tuna for a spicy stick roll. Cleo, that stick is so nice you should blog about it. You could call it “Every Day a Stick.”
No?
Sigh.
Cleo doesn’t care where the stick came from. She doesn’t care about blogging, or side dishes or garnish or if sticks are so yesterday. She just chews sticks, and then falls over in blissful, paw-twitching sleep. We always say that Cleo’s only skills are being soft, and being simple. Two sweet and desirable points, things that make it easy to play favorites, and dream of a dog’s life.
Oh Cleo of the pinkest of pink tongues, you are adorable!
Cleo is one lucky dog! I am my dog’s chief provider too. He loves everyone but I am his favorite human. If my teenager read this she would roll her eyes.
Such a pretty girl. Puppy loves a good stick, too.
Yay Cleo!!!
Cleo also has a tongue the color of a watermelon martini. Now I may never drink one again. But if I ever do and need a swizzle stick, at least I know where to find one!
Dogs always love the one who feeds them…kind of like men, lol!
Cleo is adorable!!
“Spoonful of prawn-plum mousse”
lol. You always crack me up, without fail. My dog, who hasn’t quite decided where the two human kids reside on the hierarchical totem pole (their status seems to be “tolerated”), has been enjoying the fact that I like to get pork shoulders on the bone. However, she has this misguided notion that the bones are for eating in the living room, and stands on the other side of the door to the deck, bone in mouth, waiting to come in. Granted, eventually bone takes precedence over location location location.
i think all labs eat sticks…and stones
I love the red collar, such a simple but stunning contrast… she is quite a beauty and so photogenic too!
I have my first stick dog. Always — all previous 11 dogs — were ball dogs, with a Frisbee dog tucked in here and there. Now, we’re pure stick in my household, me and Otter, my 2 1/2 year old very best companion. From a purely human point of view, it might seem that there must be a great deal to say about stick, if all the hours of searching, gnawing, carrying, tossing and chewing again are any indication of devotion, but, as you so aptly point out, dogs don’t blog. Neither do they advertise their pleasures, or brag about their finds. Sigh. We have so much to learn from them.
I’m such a sucker for a flop-eared pooch, and I love hearing all your dog tales! Perhaps a Simmer dog biscuit contest in the works.
My Cleo suggests your Cleo would enjoy a pet machine. That means you
stand legs apart and flap your hands up and down in petting motions, calling “Who wants a pet machine?” as the Cleo passes back and forth, wagging and chuffing in appreciation.
Did you name Cleo after Dan Reeder’s dog? That wheezy basset hound?