I just peer pressured my dog into drinking some PBR.
Everyone else’s dog in the mountains does it. Why won’t mine?
At first it occurred to me that maybe it was a snobbery thing. For, she likes coffee. But only REALLY good coffee. She also seems to prefer independent roasters and free trade blends made under a fresh drip.
So I thought, sure, like me, if beer she was to drink; firstly IT WOULD NOT be PBR. No, her palate would prefer a Guinness or a heady local Amber.
Instead, presented to her bowl, were the contents of a Silver, Red, White and Blue can.
Small tastes were consumed from my fingers as I sat urging her to give in to the fizzy beverage. I tap tap tapped my fingers in the brew, and rubbed some in her mouth, forcing my fingers past her teeth.
She has a look of vague discontent interest.
I start bribing her, “Come on, just try it! We will go for a WALK, if you just drink some of this.”
Her eyebrows waiver, questioning my context of the word “walk” as I eagerly and almost maniacally point to the beer bowl. She leans in, interested, perhaps thinking the substance has magically changed. But, no. Just the same old PBR.
I repeat more frantically, and encouragingly. I emphasize the word “IF” she drinks it.
She snorts at the bowl, and walks away.
I change strategy, I tell her she only needs to take one lap, which would be nothing anyway because she has a hard time keeping water in her mouth. I am assuming she knows what “one lap” means.. One more time, nicer, more sincere.
I realize, I am acting evil, and my dog is like Jesus with some magical willpower to deny my evil machinations.