OP-ED: Story Over a Cup- Weird thoughts in passing
So, Jada is getting up there in age.
This July she will be a ripe old age of 15. In dog years, well I don’t know what it is in dog years other than to say a lot.
She has slowed down some. We have started adding hip and joint formula to her food.
She doesn’t run around as much. She is more content to lay beside our feet, or with us in the bed. She will still go outside and explore. She even tries to get out of the yard.
However, being the diva she is, she expects you to open the gate for her so she doesn’t have to.
Well, among other things changing with her, is she now really is not a fan of her dry kibble.
She will eat it, but not enough and we were worried she was losing weight.
The solution, adding wet food to the mix.
She loves it.
So we buy the regular food they all eat, and then the wet food which we mix into her food.
Well, I was looking at the flavors available. Tasty names like Filet Mignon, Grilled Chicken, New York Strip Steak just to name a few.
My next thought was, how do they know it tastes like those flavors? It is not as if they can ask the dogs to do a comparison.
Two options filled my brain. I now get to share them.
The HR rep says politely, “Well Mr. Cole, as you know we pride ourselves on hiring only the most discernible food pallets.”
I nod, after all a gig that pays you to eat. Count me in.
“You need to be able to tell the difference between such foods as strip steak, sirloin, and grilled chicken. This way we know what to label the packages we send to our customers. They are very picky and rely on you to identify the food.”
I nod, ready to get started. “Where do I sign?”
She smiles, we finish the hiring process and I am led to a room where there is a table set with several plates with some clumps of what I think are food on it.
I frown, “Is this food for the astronauts on the International Space Station?”
She laughs, “No. Fido Food Corp.”
I hate being left in the mall while my wife is off at places like Bath and Body Works. So, I like to window shop.
In the middle of looking at 2nd and Charles and a young girl approaches me.
She begins, “Sir would you like to participate in a paid blind taste test?”
I shrug, “Why not sounds like fun.”
She leads me to a room with several plates with small bits of food on each one.
“Just try each one and tell us what it tastes like.”
Best 50 bucks I have ever made. Just not sure why I have an urge to chase cars all the sudden.
Michael Cole is a syndicated columnist that when he is not writing, he is plotting global domination. You can follow him at www.storyoveracup.com