Samson, an adorable little stump-legged mixed breed, was transported by the mere idea of Beggin’ Strips™️ treats. I’d seen cartoon dogs swooning and spinning around when offered one of these things, but it wasn’t until I saw Samson’s version that I began to understand what a potent potion I held in my hand.
One evening when a friend, Ann, was visiting, Samson became bored as we talked about dogs. Samson was my first dog, while Ann was the proud owner of a sizeable hound named Grizzly. Bored, Samson started cranking up for one of his indescribably nerve-racking whines. I quickly got out the Beggin’ Strips™️ bag, in response to which Samson immediately went gently berserk.
I’d seen Samson’s response to this particular treat dozens of times. Still, always enjoying it, I couldn’t help but join Ann in howling laughter when Samson began putting the Strip through its paces in the middle of the living room. Our laughter made Samson ecstatic. Not only did he have one of his beloved treats, but he also had an appreciative audience.
Extending the drama to the nth degree, Samson disappeared down the hall several times with the fragile treat held carefully between his grinning teeth. At the end of each trip, he’d swerve around the corner of my bedroom at full gallop, like a car taking a sharp curve.
Then he’d come pounding back into the living room, where he’d do a spinning dance that must have been the dog version of post-touchdown celebration. Finally, exhausted and unable to hold himself back any longer, he gave the strip one last defiant flip, caught it in the waiting jaws and then rolled onto his back. There, he clutched the strip between his forepaws and gazed at it in total admiration for a moment or two before carefully crunching and licking the elegant treat.
As Samson finally finished his treat and began composing himself, Ann asked, “Does he always do that?”
In complete surprise (remember, I’d never had a dog before), I said, “Yes. Doesn’t Grizzly?”
This set Ann off on another round of laughter until she was finally able to answer. “No,” she assured me. “Grizzly doesn’t do that.”
And neither, it turned out, did any of the other dogs who came into my home in subsequent years. No, that one belonged to Samson and Samson alone.