One of the things Claire couldn’t eat while pregnant was sushi, so we ordered some last night. It was quite pleasant, really, with Leo quietly sitting in his infant carrier. We ended up getting a bit more food than even I could finish, so there was a slice of Philadelphia roll left over. Since we’re not really sure how long you can safely store it, we figured we should just dispose of it.
These days we’ve been trying to get Beta to eat once in the morning by putting her food out for about a half hour, and if she doesn’t finish, we take it away. She hasn’t quite clued in to the deal yet, so I knew she was hungry.
“Hey Beta, want some sushi?”
“Who’s a lucky dog? Who’s a spoiled puppy?”
Wagwagwagwagwagwagwagwagwag, pant pant.
She sat and waited for the treat. Because sushi can be messy when eaten in more than one bite, I put the whole thing in her mouth, figuring she’d cleanly wolf it down.
Instead, she took it over to her favorite treat eating place (our living room rug, unfortunately). She then proceeded to set it down, and gingerly unroll it so she could push the pieces around and sniff at each ingredient in turn.
She ate everything except the fish, and got up to leave.
“Hey!” I pointed at the scorned saki.
Beta sniffed at it, picked up a piece for a moment, and dropped it back to the rug.
“What’s wrong with you? This is top-notch stuff. Dogs like fish.”
She looked at me as if to say, “What? This is raw, dude,” and walked away, leaving me to pick up her spat-out leftovers.
This from a dog that rolls herself in dead things, and chews on dead fish washed up on the beach. Go figure.
You know, I actually hope that she’s just being picky, and that her heightened dog-senses didn’t pick up anything wrong with the sushi. Ugh.