What my dog taught me about fine dining

I used to have a Shih Tzu named Evelyn, after the Zappa song "Evelyn, A Modified Dog." Normally, she was not a finicky eater. She ate the same sort of dog food every day, vacuuming it up as if she were starving.

But at one point she decided she no longer liked the usual dog food. Day after day she refused to eat. Toward the end, she lay next to the full bowl, whimpering and lookup up mournfully. She was very weak and trembling slightly.

I didn't know what to do. The vet assured me that a dog will not go on a permanent hunger strike, as a cat might do. A dog will get hungry enough to eat, sooner or later. But it seems Evelyn had never studied veterinary medicine, and didn't realize that was the case.

One day I filled her bowl in the kitchen as usual, but slipped on a wet spot on my way to her feeding place. My feet went forward and my head went back. I landed painfully on my back. The dog food went everywhere.

When she heard the noise, Evelyn came running - not to check on her fallen master, but to gobble up the morsels of dog food from the kitchen floor. The very same food she found boring in her bowl was now exciting and delicious.

It was then I finally understood the importance of presentation to the enjoyment of a fine meal.