Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

Pros: My dogs love them. They last a long time. They don't really stink after the first 30 seconds. Cons: They're a little pricey. And I don't like to think about what they're made out of. They lose the star on price, though. Pound for pound, they cost more than dry-aged USDA Prime Rib. I don't buy USDA Dry-Aged Prime Rib for myself, so I'm not sure how I got talked into paying that kind of money for a dog treat. I blame my wife. She says I'm stingy with the dogs. I say I'm pragmatic and our dogs would be happy eating out of the litterbox if we would let them. My dogs will recite Shakespearean sonnets for these treats. One of them has learned how to mow the lawn for me, and the other has started grading my students' homework in exchange for a half-length of one of these apparently delectable sections of dried out taurine...parts. (Seriously, don't look up what they're made out of if you're squeamish.) These things are expensive compared to regular rawhide, but they do provide a longer chewtime-per-inch for my mutts and, so I've been told by professionals, don't have the same potential to cause gastrointestinal damage. Furthermore, I cannot emphasize enough how much my dogs prefer these things to regular rawhide chews. They just have to see me move my hand toward the bag and all of a sudden my two Tasmanian devils are stone-still statues of obedience eagerly awaiting, nay, eagerly DESIRING any word of command I might give. Therefore, despite the price, I don't feel I've gotten the shaft on this deal. At least not metaphorically. Euphemistically, though, I suppose I got a whole bag of them. Oops, sorry. Now you know what they're made out of. When you first open the bag, they'll smell bad. After 30 seconds, there is no scent whatsoever unless you wave one of them right under your nose. If you're the kind of person who regularly waves dried out steer phallus under your nose and you need them to be totally odor-free, get a different product. You'll need some heavy-duty garden shears or a really sharp cleaver if you're going to cut the foot-longs down to smaller sizes. This process makes me wince in some sort of primal, Y-chromosome encoded empathic reaction, even though I realize the animal from which the product was taken no longer has need of it. My wife says I'm a wuss. I say I'm compassionate. If you have neither a prohibitively strong gender-based moral qualm regarding the raw materials used to make a bully stick nor a hyper-developed sense of smell, and you can afford to pay Dry-aged USDA Prime Rib prices to throw pieces of dessicated steer pizzle to an animal that will wolf down filet mignon with the same delight it takes in bolting cat poop when you're not watching, then go ahead and buy these. At least your dogs will give you their undivided attention for the 15 seconds between your opening the bag and distributing the treat.