I did it just a little while ago. I ate what in our house is dog food. I caught myself doing it.

Actually, it is not technically the dogs’ food; it is the dog’s food. Shane is four and Sydney is 14 and you can’t make Shane eat something different. Well, you could, but that might lead to interesting protests.

You see, here’s the scoop: Sydney has chronic pancreatitis and eats pot roast (Manager’s Special) cooked in a crock pot and rice with a wee bit of high end actual dog food added for vitamins.

Yes, Shane and Sydney eat better than we do. But today when I was cutting up the roast into little chewy pieces, I stuck a couple of bites in my mouth. Oh, it was sooooo good.

I thought, “AmeliaJake, you are eating dog food!” Then I looked around quickly to see if one of the dogs had seen me. I imagined Shane herding me over to the Purina Dog Food in the special package and telling me to have at it. Insisting that I chomp down some lamb and rice pellets as well. Not leaving until I had.

Fortunately, the incident passed without consequence.

Of course, you realize I don’t just put in a layer of dry dog food, a layer of rice and a layer of roast. No, I gently mix it with my hands so it is a nice blend and then I put it in the microwave for 20 seconds until it is just right.

I come by this naturally; my dad would buy Socrates and Miss Alice their own Dairy Queen cones.

That reminds me – I need to purchase a single small geranium to put on the place where Miss Alice’s ashes rest. That would be right above my dad’s casket. There will also be a big urn-like pot with with a big geranium, fern and a spike. Shoot, that tugs at my heartstrings.

And now I’ve got myself thinking about him putting out flags on graves on Memorial and Veteran’s Day for the American Legion.  Auggghhh, now my throat is tight.