by Frank Baugh

Created on: June 29, 2009

The truth about dog food is that the only creatures that like it are people.

Think about it; have you ever seen dogs really eat dog food because they like it? We people, dog's best friends, like it because we can shovel out a bunch into a bowl, set it on the floor for pooch and walk away feeling satisfied that we have avoided animal cruelty for the day. Pooch looks at the offending concoction, turns up the little wet nose and proclaims a hunger strike. Then, if you happen to have taken on cats as pets as well, pooch will go supplement its diet with buried treasures from the kitty-liter box.

Here's the experiment: take a bag of the costliest dog food available and put it in a dog bowl. Then, fifteen feet away put out a sun-ripened, road kill possum. Let pooch loose to chose.

I noticed lately that our foo-foo dog, a fluffy cocker spaniel with a heart as black as her coat, has taken on this piteous gaze. As a matter of fact she starts begging whenever any human food is present. That is because she wants scraps, of course. (Some will blame that on her owners' encouragement in the behavior). Anyway, at my house with two growing boys (and myself) the scraps wouldn't support the tiniest mouse - probably why we don't have any. I began to feel sorry for the foo-foo dog and decided to supplement her diet with dog food. The next time I went to the grocery there was dog food on the list.

You know, dog food is expensive! Well, at least the brands with the happy, healthy, smiling dogs pictured on the bag are expensive. I said to myself, Ah ha! Those are the bad brands because they have to charge higher for the extra advertising they must spend to move their crummy product. I considered that pretty astute reasoning on my part. When I saw a plain, one color, giant bag of dog food, one-forth the price of a one-forth size bag of the frilly stuff, I said to myself there's the good stuff and bought it.

When I got it home I made a huge production of the event for the foo-foo dog. Look, Satan, I've brought dog food! The foo-foo dog looked excited. I poured up a bowl and set it down. She approached it, sniffed it, and then looked up with what I thought were grateful eyes. I smiled and walked from the kitchen to the den listening over my shoulder for the ravenous munching of the sumptuous canine repast.

Sure enough I had hardly reached my child and animal battered recliner when I heard the stirring and digging sound of a foo-foo dog a-feasting. I turned

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