Tiffany Sale2Ode to the Love of Dog Food by Doug G

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Matilda Horseinfager ate dog food.
It had nothing to do with saving money. She simply craved dog food.
She hated herself for this passion. But what could she do? Whenever she came within sniffing range of a bag or can of dog food, she totally lost control of her inhibitions. She gobbled. Snorted. Inhaled every morsel of dog food within smelling range.
It wasn’t that she disliked human food. She could polish off a good sized steak before anyone else at the table managed to cut their first bite. French fries quickly followed. Only then would her volume of consumption taper off to discrete bites as she toyed with the salad. As one might imagine, she seldom ate out and never accepted dinner dates.
Her secret passion for dog food began to unravel one evening after eating her way through a can of Meaty Delight. On the can she noticed a sweepstakes. “Why not [link widoczny dla zalogowanych],” she decided. First prize was a year’s supply of dog food. The consequence of winning never occurred to her. Besides, she never ever won anything so what was the harm?
But two months later, after completely forgetting about the sweepstake, she received a registered letter. She had indeed won the year’s supply of dog food. However, there was a problem. The company wanted her and her dog to fly to New York for a special presentation. All expenses paid, of course.
Her first thought was to call the company and tell them her dog had died. But then they’d probably award the prize to someone else. No…she needed to get a dog.
The next day she went to the local dog pound and walked the aisle in front of the cages. What she wanted was the smallest dog possible so she wouldn’t have to share her horde of dog food.
But small dogs weren’t in season at that time so she left with something that looked like a cross between a German Sheppard and a dachshund. It was about medium height but with a hind end that extended well beyond where it should have ended.
.The dog was so overjoyed at having been rescued from the pound cage that he instantly bonded to Matilda. The same could not be said for Matilda. In fact she didn’t bother naming the dog for several days. Finally, when she had to fill out a form to send to the dog food company, she came up with a name. She wrote in the first thing that came to mind. The totally unoriginal name of Rover.
That first evening of their life together, the dog learned an important lesson. He watched as Matilda scooped large portions of delicious smelling dog food onto a plate. He stood, tail wagging, eagerly awaiting the feast of his life.
But when she sat down and started eating all that food herself, he was completely puzzled. He whined but this only earned him a scolding. It was only after she had finished and begrudging added a little more food to her leftovers, that she put the plate on the floor. Rover quickly learned that he ate only after Matilda had her fill.
When the day came for Matilda and Rover to fly to New York, the company sent a private jet. When they arrived in the Big Apple, a limousine whisked them both off to a television studio. Here it was explained that they were to make a commercial prior to the presentation.
A man dressed in a tee shirt and jeans was introduced as the director. His grim expression made it obvious that he considered making a dog food commercial below his talent status. “We’ll be filming the commercial in that kitchen set over there,” he said, by way of a greeting. “By the way, what the hell kind of dog is that?”
Matilda explained that she had rescued it from the local pound and didn’t know. The director thought about this a moment and replied, “Yeah…well I suppose we can work with that.”
“On the table is a can of Wonder Dog, a spoon and a bowl. I want you to scoop out a good portion into the bowl and put it on the floor In front of what’s his name. As he gobbles it up, I want y