|Hey, I'm not Nick, I'm Gil, and you never give ME any bread!|
Give the dog his bread. Nick has become a very old man, 13, and showing it. He is pretty much blind, selectively, but effectively, deaf, he doesn't really recognize Liz a lot of the time, and he loves to bolt off down the driveway.
He has been lately getting thin and his coat wasn't looking the best either. He had kind of lost his appetite.......However, he has always loved bread. His excitement when someone reaches for a loaf is quite funny to watch. Puppy gambols around the kitchen, old-dog toe nails clacking, slab-sided, half-balanced, but all happy.
Thus every morning now, I give him a slice or two when he comes in from his morning peregrinations. It makes him happy and he has gained some weight and his coat looks better. After he gloms down his wheaty delight he trots into the dining room, wherein lies his bucket of dog food and eats that too. He has even gone back to stealing kitty kibble.
Bread isn't supposed to be terribly good for dogs, but I guess at his age I will let him decide what he likes. Therefore bread it is.