I don’t do it a lot, because it sets a precedent, and leaves me feeling debased and wracked with self-loathing. But the Dream Bone is worth it. I mean, Sweet Lord, look at this thing. It’s the mother of all treats. Miniature T-Bone steaks made with real beef, infused with something that tastes a lot like actual BBQ, enriched with Vitamins and Minerals, (whatever those are,) and delightfully free of rawhide, which has historically transformed my scat into a loose pile of brown yogurt the Biped gamely struggles to retrieve.
So, yeah.
I’m not beyond begging.
Freddy
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