"Slow down," my grandmother chided me. "Your food won't run away!"
Granny had a point, I was a notoriously fast eater and as any doctor will tell you, that's not good. You end up packing in the food faster than your brain can register, "Full Tummy," so you eat more. And we all know what that means.
More calories, pants with stretchy waste bands.
Well, the same thing applies to cats and dogs, at least to the ones that don't wear pants like my nutty cousin Bertha's bulldog, Chubby. She doesn't believe in neutering or looking at his dangling bits and pieces while she's watching reruns of Murder She Wrote. Fair enough.
In any case, my point is that your pet should eat reasonably slowly and that's a tall order for any carnivore. That's why I like to feed my dog his raw food while it's still frozen. He has to work at, grind away, sometimes even use his paws. Other times he will lick it, savor the flavor, semi-thaw it his own way. Remember, a dog's mouth and indeed entire gastric system is a lot hotter than ours. In fact, you'd get 2nd degree burns if you touched his gastric juices with your bare hand.
On occasion I will even take slow-eating to another level. I'll clump a bunch of chunks, sprinkle water on them, place them in a baggy and let them super-freeze for a few days. When I see a frosty build up, I'll feed it to my dog, DJ.
You have to see how excited he gets, it's as if he found a buried treasure on an Arctic expedition. It might take DJ up to an hour to consume that icy delicacy and when he's finished, he's as tuckered out as an afternoon in the dog park.
Little does DJ know how much easier the slow-eat is on his digestive system, how it cleans his teeth and gums, freshens his breath and flushes his system of toxins.
My grandmother used to tell me that the best things in life are free and while I wouldn't wholeheartedly agree with her, especially when the waiter slaps the bill at my table, sometimes that time-worn, musty adage rings true.
Like feeding frozen.