After Timothy had his teeth cleaned at the vets in Borehamwood, we followed the lady vet’s advice and got Timothy to “clean his teeth” with raw chicken wings.
It was a chore that he didn’t mind doing at all. Sometimes we bought a bag or box of wings, but usually just gave him the wings from a whole chicken. We’d but a chicken to chop up and cook with, or to roast, and took the wings from that for him.
He KNEW when we’d bought a chicken, and would press his nose against the bottom drawer of the fridge whenever we opened it, reminding us of his share – making it hard to close the fridge door.
Chopping each wing into halves, he’d have a bit of wing each day for four days from each chicken. He had his last wing at lunchtime on his last full day: I “dropped” it on the kitchen floor. He sniffed it, yawned, and looked up at me to check that taking it was OK. I told him that he was good, he asked no questions, picked it up, and skipped into the living room. Once finished; he’d always follow it with a big drink of water.
