Mother was up earlier this week, whence she pet me and said hello, and then went and played with a donkey for forever. Apparently, they were sniff-mauled by a large dog on their sojourns, but that isn't pertinent to MY story.
Upon their return, Mother finally felt properly contrite of her neglect of me, and said she would bring me cookies. She went to the barn porch, and returned proffering something that smelled reminiscent of peppermint.
I must say, Mother has horrible taste. The "treat" she gave me was revolting.
I sniffed... pepperminty. I accepted, took two slow crunches, then stopped. I looked at her with wounded eyes. I mean, this was gross. She offered me a second. Uh, no way. Un-uhn. Mother handed one to the wee donkey, who true to form consumed it with no hesitation, although it took her a while. They were not only gross treats, but very solid.
Mother offered the last of the three to Callie, who ate it because her treat offerings are limited. Mother came back to me with a small handful of my beloved Herballs. I begrudgingly accepted them. Mother suspected I still had the remnants of the first treat lurking in my mouth.
I'll never tell.