Gracie's Birthday Banquet

"Feasts must be solemn and rare, or else they cease to be feasts." -Aldous Huxley 

^ From the top, clockwise: 

kibble and sardines, 

fresh blueberries, 

fresh bell pepper, 

roasted chicken, 

frozen blackberries, 

and in the middle, Gracie's favorite, hard boiled eggs. 

A cozy bed. 

A squeaky toy.

Maybe a sweater. Or a raincoat.

It's hard to land on a great birthday present for a dog. 

Especially when your dog does not care one whit for such treasures.

Gracie cares for one thing and one thing alone. (Well. Besides me.)

Gracie cares about food.

So this week, as her birthday approached, I racked my brain, trying to think of a new way to give her all the delicious food we're already giving her, in some way that would feel novel and maybe even special. At least to us. And one of my daughters hit the nail on the head.

A scavenger hunt.

After ruling out several undesirable scenarios:

1) In which we hide food around the house, which would result in unsightly puddles of Gracie's drool left behind in every place where she found her treats, 

2) In which we hide food outdoors along the route of her walk, which would only encourage her to eat (more) garbage, a horrible habit of which I'm continually trying to break her,

we hit upon a winning idea. 

Once home from her walk, we'd serve Gracie up her usual dinner of kibble and sardines. As she was chomping that down, I would slip out from the house a series of other dog bowls, each full of some Gracie-approved tidbit which, considering she loves all food except raw mushrooms, would not be difficult to accomplish, and tuck said bowls here and there around the front patio where she would already be dining. Then, we imagined, our birthday girl would nose around the patio, finding one delicious treat after another, and snarfing them all down to her heart's content. 

And you know what? It worked perfectly. 

^ Kibble and sardines, down the hatch.

Interestingly, Gracie did not tear through her various dinner courses at quite the breakneck speed I'd imagined. She worked carefully, diligently, licking every trace of food out of each bowl before moving on to the next. Other than the hard boiled eggs, which she wolfed, she ate with much more careful deliberation than usual. It was a delight to see her move through her progressive supper with more curiosity and self-control than her usual chomp fest. 

In fact, the only downside of the entire feast was the disappointment she surely felt on the day after her birthday when we returned from her walk and she excitedly scanned the patio for more of the extra treats.

Sorry, Gracie. Those goodies are for celebration purposes only.

But don't worry. You'll get another birthday banquet in just 364 more days. 

* * * * *

Do you remember the crazy story in which Gracie came to be mine? Read this for the details.

Surprise!