I was told that raw beef bones and marrow bones were good for dogs and so the next time I was buying some cut meat, I asked the butcher for some good-sized bones for a good-sized dog. I went home with several large hunks of bone with all sorts of bloody muscle, bits of drippy meat and other nasty things that dogs go berserk over and sure enough, Cordelia went batshit on the spot. I froze a few of them for later and gave her a few to get started on. She took off with them and for awhile I saw her working on them in various places in the house. I tried to get her to stay in one spot (and on a towel as well), but she was having none of that as clearly for her a big part of the thrill was in dining on them here, there and everywhere. Some time went by and I saw Cordelia lazing about without her bones and I went looking for them but couldn't find them anywhere, and then having gotten busy with my own life, forgot all about the bones until I went upstairs later that night to open the bed for David and I. And there were Cordelia's bones, stuffed underneath David's pillows. She adored David, so it was a toss-up as to whether she was offering them as a gift to him or had chosen to hide them there because she trusted him to protect them for her and not eat them himself, but either way we had a bed full of bloody, stringy sinew and smelly, sucked-on bones. With a gift like that at the end of a long day, it's a good thing we loved her just as much as she did us.