Gemelli will happily eat pretty much any kind of protein. But as you stray from Paleo choices, he starts to get pickier. Most baked dog treats, for example, don’t pass muster.
That isn’t an issue in our own house, where we now only buy the kinds of meaty treats we know he’ll like. But it’s often a source of some embarrassment in the outside world.
In New York City, you can take a small dog with you into nearly any store. Doing field research for Dobbin, for example, we drag Gem into a good number of clothing boutiques, where he’s invariably a hit with the women behind the counter.
Your dog is adorable!, they say. Those little white boots!
Can I give him a treat?, they ask.
Sure, I tell them. You can try.
The shop girl will come out, biscuit in hand. Gem will sit politely, smile, take the treat in his mouth. Then, after a couple of seconds, all the while making eye contact with her, he’ll disgustedly spit the treat onto the floor, turn around and walk off.
Total asshole move.
[Ed. note. Forgot to mention this coup de grace: because it's apparently too easy to clean up a rejected whole treat, he'll also occasionally crack the treat in his mouth first, before dumping it as a little mound of crushed biscuit on the ground. Nice.]