Cheerios have played a significant role in my life since I was a pup. Early on, Sister clicker-trained me (kind of) by rewarding me with Cheerios. I learned how to play "Get, Bring, Toss" (my equivalent of fetch) with the promise of those tiny little "o"s motivating me. I've been given them in my puzzle Kong toy and scoffed them up when I inexplicably became freaked out at stairs and needed to be bribed to climb them again. And when Pa eats a bowl of Cheerios for breakfast, he always makes sure to give me a couple to test.
But the problem with Cheerios is that they are very tiny. I mean, I don't even have to chew them (in fact, I'd probably bite my own tongue if I tried). But not chewing food is dangerous and occasionally those tiny little "o"s have turned into attack cereal.
For instance, last week I was outside with Pa and he was running me through my list of tricks. I came, I sat, I said my prayers, I played dead, and I did figure eights in quick succession despite the fact that Pa had only asked me to sit. As a reward, he tossed me a Cheerio which I inhaled before immediately begging for more.
But something went wrong as I looked up at Pa expectantly; the Cheerio he had given me did not want to go down. In fact, it seemed as though it was fighting to come back up. Pausing, I looked down at the floor and with a mighty hack the Cheerio went shooting from my mouth and landed a foot away.
Amused by the concept of an endless food supply, I strolled over to the attack Cheerio, scooped it up, and swallowed it for a second time. It was just as tasty.
No comments:
Post a Comment