I used to eat dog cookies. Milk-Bones, to be exact.

And, with the exception of possible remorse for stealing bits of crunchy pleasure away from my dogs, I am totally unashamed.

Why no shame?

Because they were delicious, that’s why.

And they were handy. The Milk-Bone dog biscuits were the only read-to-eat snack food within my reach when I was too small to reach the higher shelves. They were right there under the sink with the dishwasher detergent, ant poison, and the Drano. Given my choices, I think I made the right decision, snackwise. Don’t you?

Please don’t answer that last question.

I don’t think I ever ate them in front of my mother, since I’m sure she would have disapproved. My father, on the other hand, would have probably been pleased by my eating sugar-free cookies that promised cleaner teeth and fresher breath. He’s a dentist. And he loves dogs.

It would have been win-win with him.

I pretty much abandoned eating my pets’ snack food when I was old enough and tall enough to reach the potato chips and Space Food Sticks. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve eaten a dog cookie. Think Carter administration.

I recently asked all of my Twitter pals if I was the only one out there who ate dog cookies. I quickly found that I wasn’t. One friend even went as far as to say she loved eating tuna-flavored cat food as a child.

Atta girl.

I have no idea why I have a sudden craving for dog biscuits again. Maybe I just miss having dogs around. Maybe my teeth need whitening. Maybe I’m not getting enough fibre. I don’t really care. I just need to exorcise this pet food demon.

Besides, it counts as baking, so that’s good.

Peanut Butter Boners

This recipe is an adaptation of one I found labeled “Peanut Butter Puppy Poppers.” The original recipe is sound, but finding freshly ground puppies in San Francisco on short notice is a real pain in the ass.*

I added a wee bit of sweetness so that these treats can be enjoyed by man as well as man’s best friend.

Just imagine the shared bond of eating the same food at the same time. And with cleaner teeth and fresher breath, when your dog licks you in the face to say “Thank you,” you can lick him right back to say “You’re welcome,” with the confidence that only sparkly teeth and peanut buttery breath can give.

Makes about 36 cookies

Ingredients:

2 cups whole wheat flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 cup peanut butter (chunk-style or smooth)

1 cup milk

2 tablespoons honey

Preparation:

1. Preheat oven to 375°F.

2. Combine flour and baking powder in a small bowl

3. In the bowl of a stand mixer, put peanut butter, milk, and honey. Mix at a very low speed with the paddle attachment. Very low. Otherwise you will have a big, splattering mess on your hands.

4. When the peanut butter mixture is well mixed, gradually add the dry ingredients and paddle until a dough forms and behaves nicely by cleaning up after itself by wiping the sides of the bowl clean with its own mass.

5. Place dough onto a lightly floured work surface and roll to ¼-inch thickness.

6. Cut out cookies with a small dog bone-shaped cutter (thanks for the loan, Mark Reilly) and place on a greased (or silpat-covered) cookie sheet and bake for about 25 minutes (or until lightly browned.

7. Remove from oven, cool on rack, make your dog or your boyfriend beg for a treat, serve.

These cookies will keep for several days in an airtight container.

* I hate having to tell people I am joking, but I would rather not be sued.

A little while back, I received a phone call from my friend Lyle:

“Hey, uhhhh… Mike? So… Cybele and I just got back from Mexico and saw that Chipper just laid and egg. Cybele was wondering if you wanted to come over and eat it.”

I was a little stunned. Not so much because of the odd invitation. I was delighted, in fact. It was more at the thought of my refusal to believe that Chipper was not, in fact, male. He’s She’s laid eggs before– four or five over the course of her twenty-one years. I realized that I was clearly struggling with the bird’s gender assignment and was frustrated that, since she is not as verbal as other breeds of parrot, I wouldn’t be able to ask her how she felt about being a male trapped in a female body. Of course, it’s more than likely that Chipper is completely happy in her female state. Thanks to years of therapy, I quickly understood that this was clearly my problem and not hers, so I moved on.

“Sure,” I replied, “Why not?” The egg was collected and refrigerated. Arrangements were made.

When I arrived at Lyle and Cybele’s home, I found still-warm-from-the-oven cornbread on the kitchen counter, along with freshly-made guacamole and salsa, some tortilla chips, and a pot of chili simmering on the stove. Chili. Oh, yes. I had forgotten it was Super Bowl Sunday. While millions of football fans across the country were preparing to eat their own chilis and nachos and what-have-yous, I had the feeling that we were possibly the only people in the country who would be eating parrot’s egg.

“Do you want to see it?” asked Cybele. She placed a small blue ceramic bowl in my hand in which the egg had made its home for the past several days. It was tiny. I’m not sure what else I was expecting to come out of an eight inch tall bird. I wondered what the hell I was going to do with one egg that was smaller than a watch face.

I didn’t have to think long. All the ingredients were right there on the countertop: the guacamole, the tortillas, the salsa. What else could I make but huevos rancheros? Correction: what else could I make but one, little huevito ranchero?

The trick, of course, was not to screw it up. Dropping it or breaking the yolk were out of the question– this egg was too rare a thing to scramble. We discussed the best way to go about cooking the thing, which was to liberally coat one depression of a miniature muffin tin with olive oil spray, place the tin in a shallow amount of water, and heat gently– very gently. I became nervous cracking the egg. It wasn’t so much that Chipper had been let out of her cage to watch the action, but because, if I messed up, I would have to wait patiently for another two years before I’d get another chance to gourmandize the fruit of Chipper’s womb. I gave the the shell a couple of swift taps with the dull end of a small knife. The shell was much softer and less calcified than a chicken’s egg. I carefully peeled away the cracked bits that adhered to the thick inner membrane, making a window large and smooth enough to safely release the yolk and albumen, then let it gently slide into the warm, waiting mini muffin tin.

“Is it done yet?” asked Lyle as he peered over my shoulder. “It doesn’t look done, but it has to be– something that small shouldn’t take so long. Is the heat on?” The heat was on and it didn’t look done at all– the white of the egg was still opaque. I was treating it like a chicken egg. Since I nor anyone in my acquaintance had any prior parrot egg-frying experience, the white of the egg seemed like a sensible gauge.

I touched the thing with the tip of my index finger. It felt done, so I pulled the tin from the heat and let it rest briefly as I prepared the egg’s accessories. We were all pleased. I was surprised by how cute an egg dish could be.

It was, of course, on the small side. I could have fit the whole thing into my mouth at one go. Fortunately, I remembered that I was eating something very special and that the producer of this little pre-chili amuse bouche was perched directly behind me, making a mess of the bit of corn bread Cybele had just given her. I turned around and showed Chipper the plate. She cocked her head a little and then lunged at it. Would it be okay if she ended up eating some of her own egg? I quietly decided to myself that this was one moral question I did not care to find out– I was too hungry and hung over from the night before to deal with such things. I merely thanked Chipper for the food I was about to receive. I felt as though I were saying some sort of Grace before supper, except, this time, I was saying it to an actual, living creature that I could reach out and physically touch, not an invisible deity. I turned my back again, uncertain of what Chipper’s feelings might actually be regarding the matter, and tucked in and thought to myself, “Is this rude? Do farmers ever eat eggs in front of their own chickens? What’s the etiquette here?”

I cut off a small amount of egg white and placed it on my tongue. It tasted oddly citrusy and I said as much. I asked Cybele what Chipper like to eat. “Oh, lots of seeds and grains. Oh, and grapes. Chipper loves grapes,” she replied. The list went, but nowhere was anything in the citrus family mentioned. So the top note was this little birds own, special addition. Lyle and Cybele then each took a little taste. That’s pretty much all one could do with the thing– it was gone after that. One perfect little parrot’s egg gone after three tiny, thoughtful bites. I sat there thinking to myself, “Is that… all there is?” I tried to remain as dead pan as Peggy Lee herself. I didn’t want to offend Chipper.

Overall, I’m glad I got to try the egg. None of the pets I’ve cared for in my lifetime have ever given me anything as useful as something to eat. Sure, the cat had left several snack offerings, but sunbaked lizards and half-chewed finches are too much trouble to cook. And, before anyone utters a “How could you?”, it’s not as if Chipper was going to make use of the thing– it was unfertilized. Perhaps we just spared her effort summoning any sort of maternal instinct the embarrassment of going through the motions of caring for something that would never become anything else if left to its own devices. Maybe it was better that we did let that egg become something else, like food.

Whatever the case may be, thanks Chipper, you’ve given new meaning to the term “pet food.” I do hope we did your little egg justice. Maybe the next time around, we’ll do something even more fun with it, like make a tiny soufflé studded with seeds and grapes in your honor or simply soft-boil it and serve it on miniature toast. We’ve got another two years to come up with a menu plan.

My dog Luna eats better than I do. It’s not to say that I don’t eat well, but she eats Superfood.

Once upon a time, not very long ago, she ate high-quality kibble. She hated it. Mealtime was spent coaxing, pleading, and trying any means necessary to get her to eat. It was a battle of wills, a struggle of stubbornness, and she usually won. Winning meant a scoop of cottage cheese or a bit of chicken mixed into her kibble. She’s really not a stupid dog, and knew if she held out, we’d eventually give in. Even so, she’d still poke around and begrudgingly eat it.

Then, earlier this year my other dog was diagnosed with cancer. We tried just about everything we could to cure him and make him comfortable and happy. And one of the best things we did was to take him to see a holistic vet, who suggested that we put him on a natural, homemade diet (he had a lot of intestinal issues).

Well, naturally we put both dogs on the diet. They both immediately loved it. It didn’t save his life, but it certainly made him damn happy for the rest of it. And Luna embraced it. Wholeheartedly. She went from a dog that practically refused to eat, to one that asks to be fed. She can’t wait for me to set the bowl on the floor.

It took some time, research, and effort to come up with a recipe that we felt would give her all the nutrients she needs. And we are still experimenting, learning what she can and can’t eat, what she loves, and what she will tolerate or pick through to get to the good stuff.

It’s not for every dog. And it requires getting out the pots and pans twice a week (or less if you make an even bigger batch of food and freeze it). But, she’s healthier (she no longer farts us out of the room) and much much happier for it.

If you do decide to try it, and your dog has been eating commercial kibble for a while, you should ease him or her into it by mixing the kibble into the homemade food. Try to use the best quality ingredients you can find, although I admit, this is not the cheap way to feed your pet. But when my holistic vet pointed out that eating kibble would be like us eating dry saltines for the rest of our lives (albeit very healthy saltines), the inner foodie in me was horrified. Why doesn’t my dog deserve to eat delicious food?

Luna’s Superfood
This makes enough to feed my 70-lb dog for about 4 to 5 days; you’ll have to figure out how much to feed your own dog based upon their weight, age, and activity level

Ingredients:
1 cup steel cut oats
1 small bunch kale, finely chopped
3 lbs chicken or turkey breast
3–4 medium yams and/or sweet potatoes, unpeeled, cut into bite-sized pieces
1/4 cup olive oil

Preparation:
1) Add the oats plus 4 cups water to a large saucepan and set aside to soak for a few hours or up to overnight. Add the kale to the oats and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Stir often, and cook until the oats and kale are tender, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a large mixing bowl to cool.

2) Meanwhile, in a large stockpot, add the chicken or turkey and enough water to just cover. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to low and simmer just until the meat is cooked through, about 20 minutes. Using tongs, remove the meat to a cutting board to cool. Leave the water in the stockpot.

3) Add the chopped yams to the water in the stockpot, and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium and cook until tender, about 15 minutes. Drain and add to the mixing bowl with the oats.

4) When the chicken is cool enough to handle, chop it very finely and add it to the oat and yam mixture. Add the olive oil and stir everything together thoroughly. Let cool then store in airtight containers in the refrigerator for up to 5 days. If you want to store the food longer, freeze it for up to 1 month. Make sure to thaw it completely in the refrigerator before serving it up to your pooch.

Note: If you don’t have the time to make food yourself, Jeffrey’s Natural Pet Food in San Francisco makes delicious all-natural food. They also have a great feeding guidelines chart to help you figure out how much to feed your dog based on weight.

In order to make sure Luna gets all her nutrients, vitamins, and minerals, I often make this healthy powder, which you can find in Dr. Pitcairn’s book, an excellent resource for feeding your pet naturally.

Dr. Pitcairn’s Healthy Powder
2 cups nutritional yeast
1 cup lecithin granules
1/4 cup kelp powder
1/4 cup bone meal (or 9.000 milligrams calcium or 5 teaspoons eggshell powder)
1,000 milligrams vitamin C (ground) or 1/4 teaspoon sodium ascorbate

Stir together ingredients and store in an airtight container. Stir a few teaspoons into the food each day.