Beef Stew and the Dog

My 90 minute commute to and from work leaves me plenty of time to better myself. But, I fear I fritter it away too often.

You would think I would use the opportunity more wisely. For example, I could listen to a book I’ve been meaning to read for years, one of the classics I should have read a long time ago.

Mostly, however, I think about food.

I usually have a pretty good idea about just what I’m going to eat by the time I get halfway home.

Tonight, it was the leftover beef stew I made the other day. I was totally looking forward to it. It was slow-cooked with big chunks of mouth watering meat, potatoes, carrots, onions and mushrooms — the kind of stew that gets better on its second or third day after whipping it up.


I’m nothing if not a meat and potatoes kind of guy.

When I got home and opened the refrigerator door, however, something was clearly amiss.

“Honey,” I called after peering into the plastic container that held but a shadow of what was in it when I left for work.

“What happened to the beef stew? I was planning on having it for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, I fed it to the dog.”

“You fed it to the dog?”

“Yea, he wouldn’t take his pill.”

“I was planning on having it for dinner tonight,” I repeated, a little agitated.

“I didn’t know you wanted any more of it.”

“Of course I wanted it,” I was really peeved now. “Didn’t you hear me raving about how good it was yesterday?

I began slamming the doors to the kitchen cabinets to punctuate the point.

“You really didn’t think I wanted any more of it?”




“Are you kidding?”


Okay, maybe I overreacted. But this is a battle I’ve been fighting for years.

My wife thinks dogs should be treated like humans.

I say part of the family, yes, but dogs are dogs. When they stop bringing fleas into the house, barking for no reason in the middle of the night, destroying the carpet and grow opposable thumbs, then they can be considered human. Right now, though, they are dogs.

It’s an argument I usually lose.

Just then our dog padded his way into the kitchen and licked his chops.

I gave up and dropped what was left of my beef stew in front of him.

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