Well, it had to happen. Someone got busted for Snackin’ on Snoopy.
That’s right. Here. In Hawaii.
I personally was not involved, but I heard it went down something like this: guy wanted to play a little round of golf with his beloved dog, staff tells hims “no doggie-nuggets on the green,” man is forced to leave pooch near clubhouse, workers wander by and eye fine piece of puppy chow, dog agrees to go with, workers make puppy páte.
A simple tragedy and one that could have been diverted if the owner had just told the workers to “Sit! Stay!”
The sad story reminded me of the time I went to Chinaman’s Hat with my brother. It was a beautiful day, the clouds were no where to be seen, the water was serene and clear, the delicious smell of BBQ wafted over the beach. . . .we made our way to the shore, nodding with a knowing smile at two men slow roasting a fat, succulent pig on a spit. . .which just happened to have a nice set of paws and A JUICY DEWCLAW! Ppbbbt! Ppbbt! Ahhhhh! Man?! A dog?!?
Yes. I dog. My brother confirmed it. How? I never asked.
Now, far be it from me to not to comment on the cherished traditions of another culture. . . I have to say that I fail to see how this can become accepted culinary practice. We all know what questionable hygiene practices dogs have, and I have often found them licking various regional areas and digging up things they shouldn’t (cat box anyone?). I just can’t imagine that such culinary carousing makes for a tasty meat. . . .and yet I wonder. What does Fido taste like? It is better fried or BBQ’d ? And more importantly, can I fit my neighbors annoying lap dog into this traditional smoker?
(It’s portable—a fine feature when running from the ASPCA.)