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Buster has decided he doesn't like the new treats I bought last week. They look like little tiny Milk-Bones, each about the size of the top joint of my little finger. (I didn't notice the "actual size!" picture on the box....) The first few times, he accepted them; the next few, about half the time he simply refused them. (On a couple of those occasions, he accepted a second proffer.) The last two times I've offered him one, he has literally run away from me.
I've still got about half a box. Good thing Gracie will eat them. (She'll eat anything I give her. Buster is more fastidious.)
I guess I'll have to pick up something else on the way home from work tomorrow.
I've still got about half a box. Good thing Gracie will eat them. (She'll eat anything I give her. Buster is more fastidious.)
I guess I'll have to pick up something else on the way home from work tomorrow.