My dog Ozzy. My dog Ozzy is a lovable, emotionally damaged sad sack of dog. My dog Ozzy is usually well behaved, inasmuch as he doesn't normally go about jumping onto counter tops to steal food. He does lots of other undesirable things, and he'd do just about anything for food. Lately, there have been lots of mini bagels around, which weird in it's own right. It all started back at Samson's bris in November where the guests noshed on mini bagels and Max's mom's chopped chicken liver. But it was Ozzy who noshed on the mini bagels when nobody was looking. Every so often since then, there have been mini bagels around our house and my parents' house. For brunches. For no reason at all. Not something either of normally keep on hand, but there you go.
And it turns out they go really well with peanut butter.
So today when I bought the bag of mini bagels at Target, I could almost taste the peanut butter on the one I would have at my mid-morning snack tomorrow. It was going to be delicious, I tell you! But Ozzy put an end to all of that silly almost-tasting, when he ate the entire bag not more than an hour after I got home.
I feel sad and bageless now.