I was feeding Ray. I had bought a single can of 'duck' along with the 11 other cans of 'chicken and turkey' just to make a case of 12. I had known when I had bought it that it was a long-shot. I've tried other kinds of food on Ray; beef, venison, 'turkey and chicken,' and he won't eat any of it. He likes his kibble chicken and he likes his canned food chicken and turkey; NOT turkey and chicken. No sir. Chicken and turkey.
So without much hope but with a plan in my back pocket, I did as I usually do. I put the quarter of a can of food on one side of the dish and the kibble on the other, and set the dish on the floor. Ray stood dish-side, unmoving. Without deigning to even lower his head to sniff the food, he looked at me. A very large and very tangible "REALLY?" hung in the air between us.
I put my plan into action.
"Mmmmm, mmmmm, that looks so good," I said to the food critic as I got down on my hands and knees, "I think I'll have a bite."
Then I did as every mother has ever done to her baby when food is scorned, I pretended to eat it. I stuck my head over the dish, stirred the kibble a bit with my fingers to make a noise to fool the blind hound into believing that I was enjoying his meal, and made eating noises.
I didn't have to pretend for long.
His interest piqued, Ray's head moved over the dish next to mine. I edged it out of the way with my own.
"You can't have any," I said to the dog, "This is so good, I'm going to eat it all."
Ray's head pushed back. This time, I let him have his way. Congratulating myself on my brilliant plan, I stood by and watched as Ray eagerly ate all of the food.
There was no "fool me twice." At the next meal, Ray wouldn't even approach his dish.