As a child, our family pet was a Bouvier des Flandres. He was a cute pup, but soon grew to be bigger than an average Bouvier. Thor weighed over 120 lbs, and he had an eye something like Sammy Davis, Jr. Thor had a glass eye due to the glaucoma that developed at 6 months old. The vet that took care of Thor also took care of the tigers that belonged to Gunther Gebel-Williams, and an animal whose owner was Robert Conrad. Anyways, everyday, three times a day, I'd watch my mom give Thor his pills. She'd grab his mouth, pull it open, and shove her whole hand and arm into his mouth until the pills went down. Maybe it didn't happen quite like that, but to a small child this is how it looked. It reminded me of a lion tamer. Every once in a blue moon, we'd find pills hidden in unsuspecting places. Behind the couch, under the kitchen table, or best of all, Thor would make like he was digging a hole in the shag carpet, and "bury" the pills. We'd ask Thor, "Did you spit out your pills?" Needless to say, he never answered. 30 year later....."Oh Brando, did you spit out your pill?" No reply, just a sound something like "PATOOOIE!" There, the pill sits, square in front of Brando. I pick it up. The pill is dry. Not at all slimey or gooey from being in his mouth. He does somehow manage to enjoy the treat that surrounds the pill. Just when you think the pill is gone--"PATOOOIE." I think I've figured him out. With each "PATOOOIE" comes another, and another, and yet another treat. I thought I'd have the same grace and style as my mother when giving Brando his meds. Lucky Brando!