ohmidog!

Roscoe (right) lost his big sister Nina (left) last night.

The two are my brother’s dogs, pictured here in one of their more intimate moments.

My brother, who lives in the Phoenix area, reports Nina started bleeding from her ears: “We bandaged up her head and took her to the 24 hour animal hospital. On the way, I stopped at McDonald’s and bought her a hamburger, her last supper, which she devoured in two bites.

Less than a week remains to vote on the dog whose face will appear on 2.5 million cans of ALPO.

ALPO’s Real Meat Moments, a contest to choose the new face of ALPO, is down to 19 finalists, and videos of all of them can be seen at alporealmeatmoments.com.

The winner wins $10,000, gets to travel to Hollywood for five days, and will be featured in national print ads.

Online voting will narrow the field to five finalists, and the winner will be chosen by TV personality and comedian Joy Behar.

All in all, I’m pretty fortunate when it comes to my dog Ace’s bad habits. He has few. He has yet to hump a human; he only peed on someone once (she was standing so still even I thought she was a tree); and his chewing up of my personal belongings stopped in puppyhood.

But there is one area where he could use some work. He’s prone to begging.

As anyone who has ever given him a treat knows, he — like most dogs — never forgets it, and when he sees that person again, he’ll sidle up to them, poke his nose in their bag or pocket and just sit there and look cute (except for the dripping drool) until he gets another one.

If he sees someone at the park with human food, as he did the other morning when he encountered a father enjoying a bagel with his baby on a park bench, it’s even worse.

He slowly approached, zig-zagging his way, acting all nonchalant because he knows if he makes a beeline to the eater he’s going to get yelled at. Then he sat down in front of him, inching a little closer. Then seeing no handout was immediately forthcoming, he commenced the stare.

That’s it, above. It’s like, “if I concentrate hard enough that food will assuredly find a way into my mouth.”

And it usually does.

Whose fault is this behavior? Entirely mine. When there’s a meal at my house, Ace knows there’s a 50-50 chance, more like an 80-20 chance, he’s going to get some. And at the park, there are certain people who like to hand out treats to dogs other than their own. I’m one of them. There are certain dogs I feel a special connection with, and giving them a treat helps cement that bond.

So, like most bad dog behavior, this one is a result of human error or weakness: We like it when dogs get excited to see us, whether they’re our own or belong to others. It’s harmless, except it creates beggars.

Fortunately, Ace isn’t as physically assertive about mooching treats as some other dogs, a few of whom will actually latch on to a treat while it’s still in your pocket, or stick their snout up your shorts to roust around for the treat they know is in there somewhere.

For most dog people, it — like getting muddy paw prints on your clothes — is just part of going to the park. But I know Ace has annoyed at least a couple of people by nosing around their knapsacks, or poking his nose in their pockets. Or with the unrelenting stare.

The solution is simple. Everyone could just stop bringing dog treats to the park. We could practice some tough love. No more freebies. No more handouts. Make the park a treat-free zone. All those in favor?

….Naaaah.