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."|