Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Pop Tart

Ada the wonderdog had a good Thanksgiving weekend, breaking her old-age fasting pattern by eating up most of my folks' dog's food. As every dog knows, even if you haven't eaten regularly in a week, if you can steal another dog's food, it will be delicious every time. "Nom, nom, tastes so...stolen."

Fortified by her spoils, she even took a little sprint in my parents' big, wooded backyard. Moved by what appeared to be primarily instinct, she heard a noise—a squirrel, maybe?—then bounded twenty feet at a real clip to get to the sound. Upon arriving, however, she started hobbling; once her conscious brain caught up to her base instinct, she knew she was in trouble, and shouldn't try that kind of move again.

Now that we are home, she's resting a lot, only eating about half of her food, and retreating to the darker, cooler places where she likes to sleep most of the day. Mostly blind and deaf, it takes a lot to rouse her...unless someone is eating a pop tart.

Pop tarts are strictly a "once in a while, just for fun" junk food around here, only purchased a few times a year when they are on sale. Last week, while Thanksgiving shopping, we found a deal on pop tarts, and bought a box of the cinnamon brown sugar variety.

The smell of a pop tart in the toaster can call our dog from across the house, at which point she will stick next to the pop tart eater like glue, doing all she can to be there in case of falling crumbs. Yesterday, as I sat down to enjoy one, she ran to me, then proceeded to do the two commands she can perform without too much discomfort these days—sitting and putting her paw up to shake—over and over. She looked ten years younger, with a wagging tail and a bright look in her eye. "If only I could have just a sliver of that pop tart, I could live another fifteen years," her pleading seemed to say.

In the end, I gave her tiny, fingernail-sized piece of the the corner crust; no icing, no sweet filling, just crust. She ate it up gratefully, somewhat in shock that I'd shared, then hung around for a solid five minutes, still in begging mode, not wanting to believe that the food was all gone.

If all it takes is a pop tart to bring out the youth in this dog, I may have to regularly invest in this miracle toaster pastry. It's not like we are sparing the dog heart disease or obesity at this point—if any creature in this world can afford to eat a pop tart or two, it is Ada.

No fruit fillings, though, because seriously, that's just gross. Even humans know that.

"Hi, I'm Ada. Please hand over that toasty nom-nom."


  1. Oh, sweet Ada. "If only I could have just a sliver of that pop tart, I could live another fifteen years." LOL. I hadn't known that you speak fluent dog, Kori, but now I'm sure of it. I would bet this is precisely what she was thinking. I hope she hangs on for a while yet, but if the time comes to make a Final Voyage to the Vet, I hope you bring one and let her eat the whole thing. Because then she would think she's already in heaven. :)

  2. Dog heaven DEFINITELY has pop tarts, Christina, you are so right.

  3. Excellent point Christina. That would be a great sendoff. Hugs Kori

  4. I have not had a pop tart in many years. But if I had one now, it would be the cinnamon brown sugar variety. YUM! I hope Ada gets to enjoy a few more nibbles now and then!