Cash's Journey : Episode 10-Special food that Josie and the squirrels loved, too

Special food that Josie and the squirrels loved, too

Switching Cashie to raw food was nothing short of a miracle. Truly, it changed everything. Suddenly, cleaning up after our sweet, leaky boy wasn’t a full-time job. Not only were our floors cleaner, but he was cleaner. Fewer showers. Less laundry. Less chasing a soggy springer spaniel around the house with shampoo and a towel. It felt like we were finally gaining control of the situation—one patty at a time. Even better? I discovered that Unleashed delivered the raw food right to our front door every two weeks! What a beautiful, time-saving, sanity-preserving service. Every other Thursday like clockwork, a box of frozen goodness would arrive—ready for us to portion out and store in the freezer. I got very used to that little bit of domestic magic.

So did the wildlife.

The local squirrels and magpies quickly caught on that a box of deliciousness appeared regularly on our front step like some kind of carnivorous Christmas. It wasn’t unusual to come home and find the cardboard gnawed, the plastic shredded, and a chunk of patty missing. Apparently, word travels fast in the urban animal kingdom.

But it wasn’t just the neighbourhood critters getting involved—our kids were pitching in, too.

One day, my son came home from school, spotted the delivery box, and thoughtfully brought it inside so the animals wouldn’t get to it first. He placed it on the kitchen island, then went upstairs to get ready for hockey practice.

By the time I got home, both kids were waiting for me in front of the garage, gear in hand, ready to roll. I didn’t notice the missing box in all the usual hockey hustle. We drove off, sticks rattling in the trunk, unaware that the real drama was just beginning.

Two hours later, after practice, the kids were in the garage hanging their gear to dry while I went inside to grab some snacks. I called for Josie, our other springer spaniel—usually the first to greet us with tail wags and hopeful eyes. 

But no Josie.

I called again. Nothing. Just the quiet sound of… crickets? That was odd.

Maybe the kids left her outside? I checked the backyard. Still no Josie. And then—I heard the slow jingle of her tags from down the hall. She emerged like a very full, very guilty submarine, waddling in slow motion toward the door, looking as if she’d swallowed a bowling ball.

“What in the world…”

I followed her outside and watched as she, very gingerly, relieved herself and flopped onto the lawn like a beached seal. Something was definitely up. When I came back inside and turned the corner into the kitchen, the mystery was solved: Josie had found the raw food on the island.

Correction: she had devoured the raw food on the island.

Bits of cardboard, plastic wrap, and meat remnants were everywhere. It looked like a carnivore crime scene. I opened the box to take stock. Seven patties were missing. Seven. That’s three and a half pounds of raw food in one sitting.

No wonder she was waddling like a tank with a food baby.

Then, from upstairs, my daughter’s voice rang out: “MOM!!”

I bolted up, ready for disaster. But there was no Josie-sized explosion on the carpet. Instead, we found… a partially thawed patty on her bed. Josie had saved one for later.

She was planning a midnight snack.

Fortunately, by the next morning, Josie was totally fine—just very well hydrated. And from then on, we made sure the food went straight into the freezer. Lesson learned. I even bought a cooler big enough to hold the whole box on the front step, safe from paws, claws, and beaks.

Every day with Cashie and Josie was an adventure. Some days it felt like we were running a petting zoo, a butcher shop, and a comedy show all at once. But with every mess, every mishap, and every tail-wagging welcome home, our hearts grew fuller—just like Josie’s belly that night.