P.G. Doghouse.

Readers of this blog, being literate and above average in oh so many ways, may be able to guess why I spent the money on a bag of refrigerated dog treats for our two little (read: huge) chaps. Yes, they're mostly good boys and deserve treats. And yes, they like chicken, very much. But why this brand?

P.G. Wodehouse was perhaps the funniest artist of prose the English language has ever known. Certainly there are many other talented humor writers, but not one has had the consistency and staying power of that late hero of humor. Readers of his will remember Freddie Threepwood, the rather soft-headed second son of the somewhat addlepated Lord Emsworth, who first appeared in Wodehouse's incomparable Something Fresh. Freddie is a bit of a wastrel, but sort of an innocent, never carousing in a serious way, but pulling pranks, drinking too much in school, running up debts, and consistently falling in love with the wrong women.

The Earl of Emsworth was so constituted that no man or thing really had the power to trouble him deeply, but Freddie had come nearer to doing it than anybody else in the world. There had been a consistency, a perseverance about his irritating performances which had acted on the placid peer as dripping water on a stone. Isolated acts of annoyance would have been powerless to ruffle his calm; but Freddie had been exploding bombs under his nose since he went to Eton.
       He had been expelled from Eton for breaking out at night and roaming the streets of Windsor in a false moustache. He had been sent down from Oxford for pouring ink from a second storey window on to the Junior Dean of his college. He had spent two years at an expensive London crammer's and failed to pass into the Army. He had also accumulated an almost record series of racing debts, besides as shady a gang of friends, for the most part vaguely connected with the turf, as any young man of his age ever contrived to collect.  

The thing about Freddie is that, after many disappointments in romance, he finally meets the true love of his life, the American Aggie Donaldson, whose father is the owner of Donaldson's Dog-Biscuits. They wed, move to America, and Freddie's new father-in-law puts him to work in the firm, selling Donaldson's Dog-Joy. Freddie becomes reborn -- confident and driven to succeed. It makes a new man of him. Kind of a bore on the subject. Lord Emsworth barely recognizes Freddie when the latter makes a trip to scout the prospect of selling Donaldson's in England. Here, from "The Go-Getter" in Blandings Castle:

"Rupert Bingham, did you say?" said Freddie with a sudden animation. "I'll tell you something about Rupert Bingham. He has a dog named Bottles who has been fed from early youth on Donaldson's Dog-Joy, and I wish you could see him. Thanks to the bone-forming properties of Donaldson's Dog-Joy, he glows with health. A fine, upstanding dog, with eyes sparkling with the joy of living and both feet on the ground. A credit to his master."
       "Never mind about Rupert's dog!"
       "You've got to mind about Rupert's dog. You can't afford to ignore him. He's a dog to be reckoned with. A dog that counts. And all through Donaldson's Dog-Joy."

I have no idea if Freshpet had Wodehouse in mind when they created their own Dog Joy. The website doesn't mention it, and I have my doubts. For one thing, Donaldson's product is clearly a dog food, a mainstay of a pet's diet, while Freshpet's Dog Joy is a snack. Still, in honor of Wodehouse, and in solidarity with another Freddie, I went ahead and bought the bag.

My dogs give it two paws up. Two out of two approve. They like the rubbery, stinky little chicken-flavored treats. However, I was surprised that they weren't wild over them. I can tell when they like a treat, when they really like a treat, and when they'll run through fire for a treat (we call that Cheese Level). Dog Joy did not achieve the top ranking. But they liked it a lot, so yes, they approve.

It did not turn them into dogs to be reckoned with. Actually, at their large size, I think that was already the case.

And I think writing about Freshpet's Dog Joy has not done the slightest bit as much for me as selling Donaldson's Dog-Joy did for Freddie Threepwood. Pity.