More Lewis, More Clark

I'm continuing to read Undaunted Courage: Merriweather Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, and the Opening of the American West, by Stephen Ambrose. I carry it with me everywhere I go--clamped under my arm pit, saddled in my car, to football practices, idling next to the bed when I wake in the morning. But I'm making headway...the book itself being reminiscent of the kind of arduous and all-consuming journey that carried the party across the American landscape in 1804-1806.

One thing I've learned from the book: Many native americans were fond of eating dog (but not all) and eventually Lewis and the exploration party ate dog, too. In fact, Lewis once wrote in his journal that he prefered dog to deer or elk.

This revelation has caused me to look upon our little black pug, "Buster", with curious fascination. How would one go about eating a dog, especially one as succulent and tender as the pooch who sleeps on the sofa and eats scraps from the table? I don't think I could do it. Makes me sad just thinking about roasting a dog haunch.

I've also come to the conclusion that I wouldn't have to eat dog to be treated like one. I mean, I work like a dog, eat like a dog, sleep like a dog, and my wife often treats me like a dog. Come to think of it, our dog might actually have a better life than I do. He seems much happier. Starting next week, I'm feasting on his kibbles 'n bits.