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.