Dear Kid,
We have a catastrophe on our hands. Actually, more of a dog-tastrophe. Actually, more of a snack-taste-trophy.
Earlier this summer, Dad and I were at a small festival, and found the lovely makers of Treats of Love doggie treats. Being the kind of puppy Mom that I am, I invested in a small bag of mini-treats for Booker (and one for Anakin because one takes care of one’s puppy cousins).
Turns out sisters Katie Mallory and Sara Higgins bake in the equivalent of catnip in their treats. I’m sure the treats are very healthy because they care a lot about puppies, but these are seriously yummy. We’re talking I’ll-do-anything-for-one-of-those yummy. We’re talking I-am-in-snack-ecstasy yummy. We’re talking I-will-even-come-over-to-let-you-cut-my-toenails yummy.
These babies are dog-licious.
Back to the catastrophe: We are down to the last two treats. Booker is not aware that we are so perilously close to being Without These Best of All Treats, and I’d like to keep it that way, so please don’t tell him.
And it’s not like we can just run out to Kroger to replenish because KROGER DOESN’T CARRY TREATS OF LOVE. These little bits of puppy heaven are (as far as I can tell) only sold at inconvenient (for me) farmer’s markets and street fairs I can’t get to.
It appears my options are to let Booker finish the last two treats and then be out or to not give them to Booker and preserve them indefinitely. Guess which I’ll choose?
Life is not an endless bag of yummy treats.
Love, Mom
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