My usual dinner-time routine is to feed Bean, start dinner for us humans, and after I've got things simmering, to build myself a martini. Regular readers will know that I prefer mine shaken vigorously with ice until my hand hurts from the cold. When I'm finished with the shaking and the martini is poured into a chilled glass, the cocktail shaker is full of melty ice cubes infused with a bit of gin and vermouth. Several weeks ago I started giving a few of these to Bean to enjoy while I'm sipping my drink. He loves ice cubes - always has - but this ritual sharing of well-chilled martini juice has apparently elevated his enjoyment to a whole new level.
My long passed cat, Russeau, who lived to be twenty, used to lick the olives in the bottom of my empty martini glass. I thought this curious when he first did it, but over time it became a bonding thing between us. I love olives myself, but I was willing to forego the pleasure of eating them in order to provide Russeau his own modest enjoyment. It's sad that Russeau and Bean never met. I think they would have enjoyed one another's company.
Anyway, the thing about Bean and the ice in the cocktail shaker is that now he is refusing to eat his dinner until he's had his cube-tini. He'll nibble around a bit, biding his time and checking on my progress, but he won't commit to the food in his bowl until I give him his ice. If he gets tired of waiting, he will go have a lie down until he hears the cocktail shaker rattling the call to mess. Then he gallops into the kitchen for his wee taste. Who'da thunk this possible? I don't know, but I gotta tell ya, it's just one more reason to love my dog.