My Love of Cheese

Some say cheese is a food.
Some say it’s a dairy product.
But I say… cheese is a feeling.

I’m not just talking about the tingle when a brie melts just right, or the way gouda makes your soul say “mmm.” I mean real emotions—camembert-level complex ones.

Let me explain.

🧀 Hope (Babybel Edition)

That moment you peel the red wax. The anticipation. The whisper of a snack promise.
Will it be enough? (No.)
Will I eat it anyway with reverence? (Absolutely.)

🧀 Comfort (Cheddar Vibes)

A cheddar sandwich when things feel wrong.
Sharp, familiar, dependable. Like a warm hug with just enough bite to say,
"You're stronger than you think, buddy."

🧀 Joy (String Cheese, Pulled Apart)

Each strand: a triumph.
Each peel: a celebration.
Mini Blue once peeled one strand at a time and called it “cheesy mindfulness.”
He’s not wrong.

🧀 Mystery (Blue Cheese Chronicles)

A flavor that says, “I know things.”
Like secrets from a French cave.
Pandy says it tastes like “an acquired perspective.” I’m still working on acquiring it.

🧀 Grief (That Last Slice)

You reach into the fridge…
…and it’s gone.
You know you saved it. You labeled it. You made emotional space for it.
You grieve, briefly, dramatically.
And then you find a backup slice hidden behind the pickles.
(I always hide a backup slice.)

Cheese doesn’t just nourish the body—it cradles the soul in creamy, tangy layers.

So the next time someone says “you’ve had enough cheese,”
just smile and say,
“I’m actually processing something.”

And take another bite.

P.S. What cheese are you feeling today?
Doggie recommends starting with one that makes you go “mmm” out loud.