Feel Better:Complain About Anything, page-698

used to give my girl the odd raw brisket bone - nice and chewy -
but she would come inside with a smile on the dial and her nose covered in dirt.
There would be a mound outside where she had buried it - to be dug up later and
be bought inside when it stank and them to be chewed on her lovely clean
sheep skin rug.
Can't really complain about that either - she was a dog and did what dogs do.