I don't want to brag, but generally our dog is pretty well behaved. Set aside pretty much any cat in the world (she just wants to love them) and a squirrel or two here and there and my mom (she loves my mom) and she's damn near perfect.
You can imagine my surprise then, when tonight as Heidi's mom was browning the ground beef for tacos, Isabel almost knocked her over.
She never bothers me in the kitchen, I thought. Then it hit me.
When she was a wee puppy and before we put her on a raw diet, she had a lot of, shall we say, digestive issues. One remedy for such conditions was a mixture of hamburger, rice, and pumpkin, and so I cooked up batch after batch of the stuff to keep our puppy happy and well.
Even today, nine years later, our senior dog smells ground beef frying and her inner puppy is sure it's for her. Somehow? That doesn't annoy me at all.