Tobie likes peanut butter, a taste Laddie completely lacked. But Tobie doesn’t have Little Bear’s anteater tongue.
He tried, though. Worked on it for a happy hour.
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They say that Louis XIV had the inscription Ultima Ratio Regum cast into all the cannon of the French Army. It means “The Ultimate Argument of Kings,” and that always struck me as one of the most honest and up-front things any ruler or would-be ruler ever said. “We can dress it up prettier than this, but when it comes down to the unvarnished truth this is what it’s about: You’ll do as I say or I’ll send my goons to kill you.”
I thought about that for a long time. If there’s an ultimate argument, it seems only logical that there must be an ultimate answer. For years I thought the ultimate answer must be the bullets in my rifle, but it never seemed quite right. I’ve got bullets – he’s got frigging Cannon Balls. I mean, if there were three hundred million rifles throwing bullets at him, then maybe. But we all know that’s not going to happen. So if there’s an ultimate answer to his ultimate argument, it sure as hell ain’t bullets.
It finally came to me – and that’s when I abandoned the city and most of my stuff, and gave all that was behind me a good stiff Randian Shrug.
The ultimate answer to kings is not a bullet, but a belly laugh.
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It looks like Tobie was making up for his tragic tongue deficit by gnawing his way to the bottom of that plastic jar. He will be pooping clear plastic, but likely with no Ill effects.
I took it away from him before he started tearing off chunks.
a noble effort
Perhaps if you used an old butter dish container, it would give him better access