As soon as I started reading a post that ran on this very blog last week, “A dog drinks Bowser Beer for dogs,” a question burst into my mind. The mystery enveloped me—it wormed its way into my head and burrowed into my brain—I couldn’t escape it: What did Bowser Beer, a drink made specifically for dogs, actually taste like? I read the article three times. No answer. As I sat there, unable to rid myself of this cursed query, fate settled itself onto my shoulders. I knew what I had to do.
On the back of the bottle is a series of instructions. First off, there’s a suggested serving size. Tiny dogs, aka scrub dogs, only get a capful. Small dogs can drink half a bottle, while medium-to-large dogs can have the whole bottle at once. I’m fairly certain that I qualify as a medium-to-large dog, so that means I had the whole thing to myself. Yay.
One time my dog ate a bunch of chicken fajitas off our kitchen table when we weren’t watching (he’s a lot smarter than we are), and afterward he pooped liquid for three straight days. Bowser Beer looks kinda like that.
After a few suppressed heaves, the simmer of the Bowser Beer began to die down, and I summoned enough strength to take the bowl to the bathroom and banish its remaining contents to the depths of Tartarus. As the witch’s brew of liquefied hen and unapproved malt emptied into the toilet, I honestly felt like I was having trouble seeing. Was this stuff making me color-blind? Was I turning into a dog? At least with all the glucosamine I’d just ingested, my joints were going to be pretty effing healthy.
