Dogs must trust us to feed them the right stuff because, it seems to me, a dog will eat just about anything. Who hasn’t lost a pair of bunny slippers*, a plant, a sock or a rock to the family dog? If the bunny slippers feel disagreeable later (they did not), the dog cheerfully barfs them up, preferably on the living room carpet. If the dog can’t barf up the offending food or non-food item, we hurry the dog to the vet for some expensive X-rays, sometimes followed by surgery, usually on the weekend. We are happy and grateful when all goes well, even if we have thoughts of murdering the dog on whom we’ve expended so much emotional and financial coin to save. But who’s counting? Certainly not the dog.
*My second-favorite childhood dog, Silver the Poodle, ate the fuzzy bunnies off my prized slippers. I felt betrayed.