Dogs, like human babies, insist on putting anything interesting they see into their mouths, with no regard to usefulness as food. Humans eventually grow out of that phase (although emergency room staff might disagree). So, even though Winston is approaching two years old, he still will stubbornly chew all sorts of odd objects. Last night, when I took him out for a potty run, he secretly grabbed a broken walnut shell. He was not able to conceal it for long, since it sounds like cracking plastic when chewed, arousing instant suspicion. Winston has the jaws of a pit bull, so prying them open to retrieve an object is a difficult and foolish move. It also means that the offending object goes deeper into the mouth, not a good idea when it's got sharp edges. So I tried psychology. A favorite snack would surely be more interesting that a sharp old walnut shell. A Snausage was laid on the floor, a foot or so away. I even held it under his nose briefly so the true fumage of the highly processed meat and cheese would be unmistakable. The wheels turning in his head were almost visible. His little forehead wrinkled as the dilemma unfolded. Open mouth, drop walnut shell, get yummy treat. But that would mean losing face and accepting defeat. Back and forth, the choices battled, as he stared at me and at the Snausage. Minutes passed. I tried hard not to laugh. He wanted the Snausage. Even I wanted the Snausage. But more than the treat, he wanted to win the contest. To eat the Snausage would be defeat. Finally, I ended the showdown. Stubbornness won. Minutes later, I found the shell on the ground, forgotten, but his pride had been preserved.
