It’s been a good morning. I did some work. I swam some laps. I returned some calls and didn’t return others. I took a pill to make sure I have enough vitamins. I took some more pills to keep my shoulder from overreacting to the swim. I looked at all the other assorted little pills in the medicine cabinet at Chez Casa and tried to remember what they were all for.

Then I got to thinking. Yes, that’s always a dangerous thing. But why can’t one chewable tablet make my teeth cleaner and my breath fresher? And give me my needed vitamins? And come in an assortment of tasty flavors? And make me pant in ecstasy at the mere thought of getting one (not to mention what I could do when I do get one)? And there’s no possibility of overdose – worst case scenario, I have to eat my way out of a giant jar of these things (I suppose that would be after I’d been placed there by evil villians in some Batman- or James Bond-type plot), I get a little chubby and have to swim extra laps tomorrow.

In short, why does the dog get all the cool stuff? What do vets and animal nutritionists know that human doctors and chefs have failed to comprehend for thousands of years? I posed these questions to Pongo this morning, but for some reason this is one secret he’s not giving up.

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