Sparky gets what he wants.

While in the camper today, I was reminded that the wood stove is a campfire in a box.  I grabbed the pie iron, but waited until Sparky had eaten dinner to make a pie with apple pie filling and a chunk of dark chocolate.

Sparky doesn’t beg or whimper for food, or try to snatch it. His polite and courteous manner makes him unbearably sympathetic.

Spark won’t ask for a bite, but I know what he wants.  It’s a battle of wits.  I know his tricks and have some of my own.

“I’m so full from eating dog food, you should have the whole thing.  What does it taste like?”

You wouldn’t like it.  It tastes like wasps and dog medicine.

“It would be okay if I smelled it.  Dogs are allowed to smell stuff.”

So Sparky takes a sniff, and isn’t a dick about it.  He doesn’t even try to give it a snakey lick.

Sparky just watches me finish it, and knows that this is the last food he will ever see.    Starving to death isn’t so bad, he isn’t even hungry.

I can’t stand it, and crack.

I’m going to make Sparky a dog-appropriate pie.  Pepperoni, egg and white cheddar.

Sparky likes the idea, and doesn’t want to mess it up somehow.

Sparky thinks I’m screwing with him by leaving the iron in the fire. 

Sparky doesn’t believe that the pie has to be cooked, and doesn’t know how the pie could be too hot to eat.  He has only ever had a frozen meatball that was too cold to eat.

I’m not saying that this is a new culinary invention, but it looks really good.

Sparky will eat a lot of things, but he likes to know what he is eating.  He won’t take candy from strangers.  Cutting it open will help him figure it out.

Sparky was very suspicious.  He wanted to take it to his lair under the dining room table, but I talked him out of it.

Once Sparky figured it out, he turned into a pancake vampire.  I didn’t like the way he looked at me.

He took his precious into his crate, and hunched over it protectively, like an animal. 

Don’t think that I didn’t notice that he blocked the door with his fat arse. 

Sparky strives to maintain his dignity.  We were both surprised to see him behaving like a greedy fat bastard hoarding his food.

Now Sparky is sleeping off his bender, like Hunter Biden after the hookers and crack are gone.

We will get passed this.  Mostly because when Sparky is passed out like a food junkie, he is as cute as that Christmas photo when he looked like a wee baby Jesus.

I’m going to make myself an egg and pepperoni pie so Sparky doesn’t feel so guilty.