Street food.

We were nervous about pulling our Southern Missouri dog out of his quiet Midwest world and dropping him in the middle of the insanity of San Francisco. I did take comfort in my theory that he’d love the random garbage along the sidewalks and stinky streets. I was absolutely right. And the beauty of random surprises is that some are better than others.

Consider a pile of human shit or a half rotten jar of mayo, for example. They’re intriguing to Woody’s curious nose, but I consider them “bad” surprises that need to be avoided.

Now, on the flip side, think about a bag of tamales randomly tossed aside. This falls into the “good” surprise category and just happens to be exactly what we discovered late last night.

Making our way up the hill, Woody pulled me toward a parked car. Before I knew what was happening, he’d eaten one tamale and was making his way through a second. They were wrapped in corn (authentic!) and plastic. As I tried to pry the sacred human food from his mouth, I realized I was a bit hungry. Standing there, with a corn husk in my hand, I couldn’t really blame Woody for his midnight snack. I kinda wanted one, too.

We left a few tamales behind. Instead of trying to discipline the dog, I laughed at him and we continued up the hill. He was satisfied and I was fairly certain his Mexican treat wasn’t gonna hurt him in any way.

Happy Friday. I don’t know about you, but I plan to go out and find myself a tamale or two ASAP.

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