That might look like a cigar, but in fact our dog is smoking processed pig carcass cunningly wrought in the shape of a cigar. (I’m always enervated by the imagination brought to bear on dog toys and treats.)
Since we’re responsible dog owners, we would never give our dog a REAL cigar. When he’s old enough we will inform him of the dangers of smoking and he can make an educated decision.
(On a tangentially related note: we recently lunched with Quack Man who’s an avid smoker and I noticed his packet of cigarettes had a picture of a heart next to the government health warning. Not some stylised Valentine’s card-style heart but a yellowish-grey, full-ventricle affair. I’m still suffering from passive trauma. The Ministry of Health’s website even has a tobacco warning warning. Anyway, I don’t want to be subjected to pictures of diseased hearts – being married to Andrew exposes me to quite enough death and destruction, thanks a lot. And is a graphic picture of a rancid organ REALLY going to make smokers think, ‘Gosh, that picture of a gammy heart has finally made me realise how dangerous to my health smoking is. I’m inspired to give up immediately – or just as soon as I finish this pack after all I don’t want to waste money’? Quack Man always asks for the pack with the pregnant woman on it so he can smoke happy in the assurance he’s not damaging his unborn fetus.)
(In case anyone’s confused by the rant above, I don’t like smoking.)
(However, here’s another photo of my dog looking like he’s chomping a big ole cigar.)