CONTEST! NO BULL TREATS PRIZE PACKAGE

TELL US: WHAT’S THE CRAZIEST, FUNNIEST, OR MOST MEMORABLE THING YOUR DOG HAS DONE IN THE NAME OF FOOD?

Our friends over at No Bull Treats, an all-natural, gourmet dog treat bakery, are offering up a prize package of their entire product line* for the best dog and food story. So tell us, in the comments below, over at Twitter, on Facebook, or send us an email (just make sure we can contact you if you’re the winner please). On September 15, 2012  Engineer Dan and I will pick the best story and No Bull Treats will send you *6 – 6 oz. bags of their all-natural treats + 1-2 large frosted treat (a prize package totaling $28.44 + shipping). U.S. entrants only please due to shipping and customs requirements (sorry our international friends, we still love you!).  Can’t wait to hear all your stories!

No Bull Treats All-Natural dog Treats
4 Comments
  1. In August 2008 my husband and I decided to adopt a Full Blood AKC Boxer from a No Kill Shelter in Lacon Illinois. We had never owned a boxer but we had decided this was the breed for us. On top of that we adopted a 6 year old female so we could skip all the poddy training, chewing and bad habits that come along with younger canines.
    We did not purchase a crate my husband just brought her home. She was a little underweight and we were informed by our vet we needed to “fatten” her up just a tad bit.
    I picked up a large 30+ pound bag a dog food that was fairly expensive because we wanted the best for her.
    Later that evening we decided to let her settle in and we left for about 2 hours to go to a cookout with some friends.
    Upon arriving home me and my husband were horrified to find the 30+ pounds of dog food on the kitchen floor, dining room floor, living room floor, hallways etc…..There was very little left to the bag that the food came in.
    She had the most happy look on her face we could not scold her hahaha.
    Scared out of our pants we ran to Walmart in the middle of the night and bought her a crate since we were not quite sure what else she would do!
    Today she is a happy healthy senior boxer who is spoiled rotten, she has her twitter page and her facebook page and has more friends than her mom and dad. She also tweets about great products she likes and mom tests products to see how long they can endure her boxerness!

  2. I have a couple of stories about Riley, who happens to enjoy some chicken.

    Story 1

    Once upon a time, when Riley was a wee pup of 6 months old, he really, really, really wanted some fried chicken. He was tired of seeing mom and dad eat delicious chicken that he didn’t get to eat. So he devised a plan he thought would get him this delicious treat. Lo and behold, the plan backfired. Years ago, every other weekend or so, Chris (aka Dad) and I (aka Mom) spent time at one particular friend’s home. This particular friend happens to make the best fried chicken you might ever happen to eat. On a Sunday after what we can call Fried Chicken Saturday, Dad was heating leftovers. You could see the wheels turning in this little pup’s head, “Oh how can I get this…just steal it? No, to shameful. Sad eyes? They haven’t worked on Dad yet. Okay, it’t time to get serious…time to initiate Plan P”. As Dad sat down to tear into his leftover fried chicken, Riley, the best dog ever who would never make a mess in the house, promptly walked into the middle of the room where all eyes would be on him, and squated to pee. The second he heard Mom yell, “Riley”, he knew without a doubt in his mind, he would not get the chicken that day.

    Riley, the sweet chicken loving dog that he is, knew that one day, despite his previous efforts, would get some beloved, elusive fried chicken. Knowing that Plan P would never work again (“what was I thinking”), he’d have to play his cards right. He’d have to “sad dog” the right sucker, steal, or cheat. One evening on Fried Chicken Saturday, Riley sat quietly watching the humans eat their chicken while other dogs begged to no avail. He knew he’d have to be smart and quick to get what he wanted. Not only would he have to get the chicken, he’d have to get away from the humans with it, but also away from fiending dogs. He watched everyone patiently knowing he’d have to beg to get close enough to the food, and to make himself look like he was just one of the dogs. He saw his chance when silly Jami ate food without a plate. He waited for just the right moment when Jami would lean forward, food low and accessible. He hopped into action snatching the chicken from Jami’s hand and was off the deck and inhaling his food before anyone could say “Riley”. Lucky for mom, it was boneless chicken! Lucky for Riley, people were too amused to punish him and best of all, the chicken WAS good!

    He quickly learned that Mom was the sucker, just aim those sad eyes right at her and she’s putty in his paws!

    Aside from Riley’s chicken stealing, and perhaps Bella stealing food from a baby, we keep the dogs-eating-food limited to dog food and floor cleaning, both of which they do very well!

  3. We had recently taught our Bullie, Wade, to ring the buzzer that comes in the Taboo board game. Seeing some potential for this, I put it by the back door, and gradually was able to teach him to hit the buzzer when he had to potty. Our proudest moment came when he rang the buzzer without us having to prompt him with “Do you need to potty?” and rang it independently.
    Recently however, he has figured out some… alternate usages of the buzzer. There was a squirrel just in his line of site out the back door. Wade stands to attention like a Marine- stiff, intentional, alert with his nose pointing towards the intruder. Of course I’m not going to let him pursue this squirrel (it could have *diseases*!). Wade makes eye contact with me, and when he sees I’m not letting him out, lets out a defeated whimper. He then walks over to the buzzer and stops it.
    It appears he believes he has trained his humans to open the door when he says so. Hilarious, brilliant even, but no dice, Wade. He walks down the hallway with his head down in a melancholy manner as if he was the protagonist from a Hemingway novel, befallen of some immense tragedy and has to now walk home. . . in the rain.

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