The Town Crier: Canine cuisine and the joys of suppertime

Published 8:00 am Saturday, January 18, 2025

When I was a kid, in the single digits of age, I was with my cousin and we were riding in the back seat of his mom’s car with the groceries. On the floorboard there was a 50-pound bag of Purina Dog Chow. It doesn’t take much at all for a kid’s mind to race in directions it ought not. It quickly went from “Wonder what dog food tastes like” to “Must taste all right, the dogs really like it” and ended at “Dare you to eat some!”

I have to admit, I recall there being as much curiosity about how it tasted as there was the desire to conquer the dare. Behind the driver’s seat we tugged the bag open and peered into the gravel-sized chunks of canine nourishment. The smell was plenty familiar: kinda meaty, kinda boney, kinda brown. We gingerly picked up a chunk each, then in mirror action, slowly put them in our mouth. It wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t so good, but it wasn’t bad. In retrospect it is food, after all. With a little ketchup it might even be snackable. Ever since then I can look my dogs in the eye and say truthfully “I wouldn’t feed you anything I wouldn’t eat myself.”

Back then, the dog food was an additive for the dog’s supper. The family dogs in the countryside got the table scraps from each meal, with the dog chow added to fill up the bowl depending on how much or little leftovers there were. The dogs were always anxious to eat and if the people had biscuits and gravy for breakfast, so did the dogs. If the humans had pork chops for dinner, so did the dogs.

Granted, the dogs mostly got the fat trims and the bones from the chops, but what do you know, that’s the part they want the most. Now there is all types of specialty “for dogs’ health only” dog food, including for vegetarian dogs (news flash, there’s no such thing as a vegetarian dog, just vegetarian owners). Back then, the dogs agreed, if it was good enough for us, it was plenty good for them.

If you’ve read the Peanuts comic long enough you’ve seen Snoopy the beagle getting his supper in his favorite dish. It’s a big enough deal to him that he frequently breaks into a dance. His joy is such that you’d think it’s a once-a-year event, like a vacation for a worker, or one of those annual “Wizard of Oz” TV showings they had when we were kids. But no, it’s a two- or three-times-a-day event, and yet his joy is complete.

And so it is with my dog. “Do you want to eat?” Don’t tell me my dog doesn’t understand English. The eyes widen, the tail wag increases 100% and a smile comes across the mouth. It’s not quite a dance, but the anticipatory prancing comes close. Around to the carport the dog rushes as I wave, and there she is, waiting for the silver bowl to come out of the laundry room door. It’s as if she’s thinking “Yay! Dog food! My all-time favorite!” She gets as excited about it as I get about banana pudding.

Now all I’ll say about my cat is she has the dinner dish out all the time in the corner of the kitchen. That way the cat can saunter up and get some chow whenever she wants, not unlike a wealthy traveler on a cruise ship where they have those endless all-you-can-eat buffets at all times of day and night. I’m pretty sure the wordsmith that came up with “persnickety” owned a cat. When it comes to her “treats,” though, I can get her up to a meander if I toss them through the air.

There used to be really fun commercials for dog food. There was Gaines Burgers, which we fed my dog growing up. They were made to look like ground beef, uncooked hamburger patties. I’d crumble a couple of them in the dog dish in the morning on the way to school. There was also Chuck Wagon dog food, and in that commercial a small cowboy chuck wagon raced across the kitchen floor chased by a hungry dog. As a kid I had no idea how they did this. Was it a real chuck wagon made to look tiny, or a tiny wagon animated across the floor? And there was Gravy Train, a dry dog food you added warm water to to make gravy. The Gravy Train commercials seemed to have the hungriest dogs and they also used talking dogs which I found hilarious. No, I have not eaten Gravy Train dog food. Please don’t dare me.

I give my dog table scraps now, but as a treat rather than an entrée. I like to think of it as a delicious part of a nutritious meal. There are chicken skins, fatty bits from beef and barbecue ribs (just the ribs).

At the first sign of a table treat, she’s suspicious. It’s because she’s worried it might be those horrible once-a-month heartworm pills we give her. They obviously taste terrible, as I can hide it in a hot dog or smear it with peanut butter and she’ll still spit it out. Once she’s sniffed a real treat, she’ll taste it a bit, take it in her mouth, perhaps drop it on the ground and sample it a bit more before wolfing it down. This is the approval process.

Now that the treats have passed inspection, the tail wags and excitement builds, with tastebuds watering like Professor Pavlov was ringing his bell. She’ll “sit,” “shake” and “lie down” and obey just about any other command except “leave” in order to get the treat. Depending on what the reward is, I guess we’re all a little like that.

Well, I see it’s time to feed the dog. Bone appétit!

Mark Hannah is a Dalton native and works in the film and video industry.