In his later years, Orion started having digestive problems. He couldn’t tolerate yogurt and wouldn’t eat food sprinkled with probiotic/enzyme powder, so after some research I decided to give him tripe as part of his meals.
He loved it. It was a natural extension of his one bad habit: cleaning up the yard, shall we say. The canned wasn’t as odorous as I had thought it would be.
I usually warmed Orion’s food to enhance the aroma, except for the tripe. One day, I’d neglected to scoop out the dinner portion in enough time for it to come to room temperature at its own speed, so without thinking, it went into the microwave without further thought. Set it for a minute and turned my back.
At :45, I swear that I saw the paint in the kitchen peel as I gasped for breath. I pulled the dish out. Orion did his dinner dance, so I just put it down for him and opened all the windows in the house.
A couple of hours and a pack of pachouli incense later, the house was livable again. I went to work on my and Hubby’s dinner, something with lots of onions to mask anything not hidden by the pachouli.
Orion exercised discretion with the whole matter, and would have even without the extra banana that I slipped him to buy his silence.