You are in an 18th century French chateau. The aromas behind an aged and cracked cream door compel you to open it, the brass handle squeaks as it turns. You open the door to be flooded with a golden sun washing in from the panned window opposite you, it is well weathered and showing its character. You look out and see a black dog frolicking in the long grass and Spring flowers.
You then look to your left and see the shelves packed full of delicious treats in kraft bags. You grab one off the rustic shelf. The dog hears you. You see him next in the doorway demanding a bag of treats, cuddles and a few more treats.