The Puppy Files: Taste Tester

Welcome to yet another edition of The Puppy Files, a series in which I travel down memory lane to when I was an itty bitty little puppy with large gnashing teeth and a bad attitude.

As I've said before, I was a complete terror when I was a puppy.  In fact, to this day, I'm still utterly amazed that my family put up with me for the fifteen months it took for me to become a "civilized" Golden Retriever.  Truth be told, I was kind of concerned back then as well; concerned that one day my family would simply give up on me and my shenanigans.  Of course, I wasn't concerned enough to change my ways, but I was definitely a little concerned.  It was from this infinitesimal amount of concern that I became a bit of a suspicious eater.

With the exception of the kibble in my dinner bowl (which I'd happily scoff down if Jack the Ripper himself gave it to me), whenever someone gave me a treat I would quickly grab it in my mouth (sometimes catching hold of a few fingers in the process) and then, rather than chew the treat (or, more likely, swallow it whole) right on the spot, I would scurry into the living room and unceremoniously spit it out onto the floor.  Then the inspection would begin.  Suspiciously, I would sniff the treat all over making sure it was a) food (which, let's be honest, covered pretty much any item I could fit in my mouth from bits of cheese to tennis shoes--still does, technically) and b) not tainted.

Now, I don't want people to think that my family would actually do something to my food; they wouldn't.  Despite all of the trouble I caused, I knew that they all loved me and at least some of my fun loving antics (specifically those that didn't involve my unnaturally large pearly white teeth wrapped around their wrists).  Still, for a pup as troublesome as I was, it didn't hurt to be at least a little bit cautious.

Anyway, having determined that the treat in question was not only edible but delicious, I would quickly scoop it up again in my mouth and start chewing (or, as I said earlier, swallow it whole).  After swallowing the last crumb, I would scurry back to the room where I initially received the treat (usually the kitchen) and beg for more.  Most of the time my begging was for naught--I would be told to "get lost" because I had already been given all the treats that I was going to get (I know, so rude).  On rare occasions, however, I'd be offered another little tidbit and do you know what I'd do?  I'd grab it in my mouth, scurry back into the living room, spit it out onto the floor, thoroughly investigate it, and then, only after determining without a shadow of a doubt that it was indeed edible, I'd eat it.

And the process would begin again.