A "cookie" by any reasonable definition, is not an amorphous slab of pseudo-meat. It is an unattainable morsel of baked goodness that the laws of nature dictate becomes available only via the benevolence of an incautious 2-year-old or unrelated catastrophe. But when Dr. Candace Major, veterinarian extraordinaire at Plano-Arapaho veterinary clinic in Richardson, scoops two fingers into her ever-handy canister and calls the globule of protein that emerges a "cookie," who are you to argue? It is delicious, and you will eat it, and you will be oblivious to the poking and prodding that non-cookie-appreciating humans swear ensures your longevity as a dog.