I have always possessed somewhat suspect eating habits, which Gary has gotten used to over the years. But, from time to time, I can still push him over the edge of his tolerance level.
A few months ago, we were in North Georgia and stopped at an art gallery. While Gary was buying me a hand-crafted necklace at the check-out counter, I noticed a bag of "gourmet organic spiced dog biscuits" for sale. The owner of the shop explained that a local woman starting selling them once she discovered her dogs were crazy about them.
So, for $6.50 -- a king's ransom -- I bought a package for our Irish terrier, Riley, who was waiting in the car. Once we got back to the car, I broke off a piece, but my picky pup stuck his nose up in the air.
Along the ride home, I discovered the ingredients included all sorts of organic flours and spices. I never could tell which ingredient qualified them for being just for dogs, so I decided to try one.
They were, in fact, excellent, and I finished off the entire package. Gary was so appalled, he almost drove off the road.
I share this story for two reasons. One is to defend myself in the face of my "natural" food friends who think I gave myself cancer...I would challenge them to line up my diet against theirs any day. The other reason for this story is to emphasize the importance of accepting the food that others bring you while you're recovering. My husband was especially appreciative since my friends have saved him from all sorts of witches brews I would have concocted.
As a final note, I want to add that since the dog biscut episode, I have not been sniffing anyone's butt, and Gary tells me that my breath is much fresher.