Working late night on a project, listening to the crickets, and the girls just want to go to bed. I was sitting here writing, and I could feel both of them looking at me with their little LAZER eyes. Lily has the eyes of sadness- “Why are we not in bed spooning? I love you. I will lick your face and curl up next to you and rest my head on your shoulder,” while Rosie has the Jack Russell eyes of intensity- “Hey fat person who I don’t bite, why are we NOT FUCKING DOING SOMETHING YOU LOSER?” So I gave them treats- a chew toy, the size of which would please a German Shepard for Rosie, and a chicken strip for Lily. Then I started to think- what makes them happier- me yelling “WHO WANTS TO GO FOR A WALK” or me yelling “WHO WANTS A TREAT?”
By a wide, wide margin, like Dallas Cowboys over the Buffalo Bills in the Super Bowl margin, walks trump treats. It isn’t even close. Which kind of makes me like my girls even more. They’d rather spend quality time with fat boy than have a treat.