Most mornings I toast two slices of bread for my breakfast, and another slice for Augie Dog. Let us not go into how and why this morning ritual has become a habit, it would no doubt not favour me.

I pop my slices into the four slice toaster on either side, and then Augie’s slice goes at the far end. The moment that slice is designated to be Augie’s it becomes as if he has already touched it in some manner. It gets buttered separately to mine, and cut into quarters. If someone asked me to eat it, I would probably be ill, as in my mind it is Augie’s, the toast of a dog.

It is the same margarine that I eat, the bread treated in every way exactly as I prepare mine, touched by my hand only, but my mind considers it Augie’s toast, and Augie’s toast it is. He likes it best when I spread peanut paste on it too.

Nothing unusual about any of that is there? That is not a question requiring an answer, by the way.

7 thoughts on “toasted

  1. We used to feed the dog lentils and rice cooked in beef flavored stock. I don’t know if that was poverty-induced or what. Those were different days.

    What concerns me more is the medieval torture device that you call a toaster. YIKES!!!


  2. I so relate, when I mind dogs and make them toast for breakfast, peanut butter or sardines 🙂 though it’s all the same … It’s theirs separate, makes them feel a little special 🙂 and I so remember those style toasters..not going any further with my age, smiles.


  3. We’re the other way round – our cats need reminding which food is there’s as they seem to think they have dibs on anything being made in the kitchen. Btw they do eat very well but when you start spreading bread or cutting meat the Boys are all over you.


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