Kibble Smoothie?

Our precious redheaded Golden Retriever came home from the vet's yesterday, having been a surgical patient. She had an ugly, mushroom-looking cyst removed from her neck, and a total of nine teeth extracted. "They were atrocious," said the vet. "So taking out the teeth was a necessary evil."

As all dogs do when you're giving them medicine and pampering them with soft blankies and "what's-a-matters," she looked extra pathetic. Her sad, soulful brown eyes, now foggy with the cataracts of old age, blinked slowly as she wagged her tail when I mentioned her name.
The smile that usually alights on her gentle jowls is now a bit droopy with the absence of a few molars.

Worst of all, I knew she hadn't had a normal-size meal for 19 hours. Nothing by mouth after midnight Sunday, and only 1/4 of a can after coming home with anesthesia still in her system. I knew today that was really hungry and couldn't eat her hard kibble, so I reached for another can of dog food. I've never bought her canned food, hut I always assumed that one can would be one meal's worth.

My daughter corrected me. "It says one can for every 20 pounds, Mom!" She needs three and a half cans per meal!"

"Honey! No way! At 89 cents a can, that is not gonna happen."

"Well, then," said my creative girl, "put one can in in the blender with some water and regular hard food and make her a smoothie."

That also was not going to happen. I don't think I could ever drink another berries-and-cream type from that blender again. I don't care if it is Pedigree brand dog food. I don't care if I wash it thoroughly when I'm done. I don't care if my dog needs something so smooth she could sip it through a straw. I'm not putting dog food in my blender. Period. End of story.

But I did economize and pamper her at the same time. I boiled 2 cups of kibble till it was soft, and added a can of dog food and stirred an ice cube around in it. Nice warm gravy stew on this cold, autumn night, for my furry geriatric pal. My loyal K9 with the six-inch shaved patch and the five-inch incision on her neck. The ever-pleasant sweetie whose gums are swollen and sutured like the loser of a boxing match.

When the gravy and kibble had come to a satisfying temperature (according to my human paw) I set it down for Molly. Oh, how she gulped it down. It's been so long she had eaten a big meal so quickly, for little did I know that her mouth had been so bothered!

It did my heart good to see her wagging her tail as she scarfed her
stew. Her eyes brightened as she lapped the gravy, and I think if she could have spoken, she would have said, "Thanks. That was the best meal I've ever had. Ever."

I was almost in tears thinking how kind God is to give me a beautiful treasure of an animal, and the joy of feeding all creatures great and small.




---for Tuesdays Unwrapped