Gnaw gnaw gnaw

My little dog is whimpering insistently because he knows that I drove to the grocery store before and retrieved two containers of marrow bones, some still covered with meat, from the back of the freezer at the back of the store near the orange juice, and that when I got home I sprinkled some rock salt and pepper on them once I had arranged the 6 pieces in my well-seasoned cast iron frying pant which I was about to place in the oven which I had instructed quietly to raise itself to a temperature of 350 degrees Fahrenheit.



Soon I will retrieve a cooked bone from the hot iron.



He will wait for a while because I will contruct a heat-sink device from tin foil, place it in the freezer for 10 minutes, knowing that the heat will quickly leave the tin-foil wrapped bone.



He will then lay down, rest a paw upon one end of the cooled bone and his other paw on the other end of the cooled bone and begin to gnaw religiously upon this item until he stops a few hours later.

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