The People Who Feed Us

I thought perhaps you might be interested in meeting the people we depend on, our parents. Let's start with Dad.

As a young man, Dad always had an affinity for being a "fly boy". His aviator days started when he was a wee lad and even today he dreams of soaring. While he does not actually have a pilot license, he does have a radio controlled airplane that he has successfully flown with our boy.

This here is a picture of Dad and his brother (that's their Mum in the middle). You can see he already had his aviator hat on and he was ready to take off. The saddle shoes just show how trendy he was back in the day.

And this is Dad now

Aviator hat? Yup. Goggles? Yup. White scarf? Yup.

We love Dad for a variety of reasons but the biggest is that he thinks eating the same thing twice a day has to be boring, so he gives us bites of things like pizza, bread, tomatoes, carrots, apple and other items not necessarily on our dietary list of things to consume. (Sadly no wine).

So, hats off to Dad for his dashing good looks and sharing attitude when it comes to consumables!

Bad Dozer, BAD, BAD!

I am in the dog house because

I stole Dottie's dinner.

She can't see so I walked over

and started eating her food out of

her bowl, while she was still

eating. Mum says this is

unacceptable behavior.

(big sigh)

(Editor's Note: We've had to add the "word recognition" to our comments because someone on the other side of the world is spamming our comments. Our apologies.)

Lesson Learned - Thanks Moco

Moco wrote and said "Never send your food before yourself".


Tell us about it Moco, I am so depressed I don't know if I can keep packing.

This is a good funny to start the day!

There is webcast called "Cooking for One" which stars Katy. On this particular episode her eldest sister Karen gives her some really helpful tips. In chiffon. And she says things like "You want to appear the way you want your food to appear." Or "You need to always wash your hands even though you are cooking for one. Even though all the germs are your own."

These are the outtakes, which even not knowing the people had Mum rolling around the floor like an idiot. Apparently it does not take much to amuse our humans.

Sleepy Monday

It is too cold to play outside and it is nice and warm here on the couch, so I am going to take a morning nap. You wake me if there is something interesting to eat.

Waitin' for River's Mummy

What a friend we have in River, look what he wrote us:

Dozer,My mom says she'll come get you. She thinks you are a cutie-pie (her words). We have LOTS of food here, too. See you soon!love & wags from your new brother,River

Pee-ess--oh, well, we WISH but gas is too high to drive out there right now...<>

Well, I will just wait here by the window so I can spot them when they come for me, because they will come, eventually.

Sweet Mother! We've Hit The Motherload!

Mum was totally out of carrots for our after-breakfast nosh,
so she gave us each a parsnip which looks like a carrot
but is really much chewier and very tasty.

Hmm, not sure how to get this whole thing in my mouth.

Just looking around to make sure Coop
isn't going to try to steal my parsnip.
Okay, let's go with the one paw approach.

Hmmm, parsnip chips, very nice indeed!

This really cleanses the palate nicely after kibble.

Perhaps a little more chewy here to open
Mr. Parsnip to my lethal jaws!

Definitely making some progress,
very good indeed!

Take that you parsnip!

Using my paws to my best advantage.

Ahh, parsnip burp - flavorful with a peppery after taste!

Thank Goodness for Pup Pals

Even in the midst of my misery, my true friends come through for me.

"Say it isn't so! A Corgi a liar. Can't be, I just don't believe it. I won't believe it. I cover my eyes to the words she made you write. Note the MADE you write. Moms get all puffed up when it comes to our chow. Don't feel to bad.... I don't get fed to much either. Not to mention Pilar steals all my treats. That is why she is so chubby. Oh crap here she comes gotta go.Paw fives."

Willow

Posted by Willow the Black Dale on July 28, 2008 2:21 PM

With hunger gnawing at me, I have

chosen to start eating my toys

hoping to hold the famine at bay.

(Mum says I may be overdoing

it a bit on the adjectives).

Uh Oh, Buffet Blunder

So Mum read River's comment on my last blog and she put me against the wall and asked me what the *&%!# I have been writing in my blog. I suddenly felt sweat break out of my snout and had the distinct feeling I would see my life running past my eyes in short order.

"What writings?" I squeaked.

"How about the entries about you getting no food to eat other than what you can scavenge out of the compost bucket, or maybe how you are too weak to tap out another blog entry!?" (her voice got really loud and just a teeny bit strident).

To cut to the chase here, I have been asked, nay ordered to confess the following:

- I get half a cup of kibble each morning
- After my kibble I get half an apple
- After my half an apple I get my allergy pill in a slice of cheese
- I get half a cup of kibble each evening
- I get salmon oil (1/4 cup) with my dinner kibble for my heart health
- I get a large, unpeeled carrot with my dinner
- I get 1 beef treat with vitamins
- I get undeserved treats through the day and/or evening
- I eat apples that fall off our tree in the backyard whenever I want and no one stops me, even when I have apple farts afterwards

Mum says I am a pathological liar with serious psychopathic tendencies that will no longer be tolerated.

I tend to think I am just colorful. Mum does not find that the least bit amusing. And she wants to make sure all my friends know that I am not starving and I am not abused in any sense of the word. She says I am a spoiled little corgi who preys on the good nature of people. And the problem with this is......?

I feel faint

I need to go lie down, I am too

weak to stand.

A Fairy Tail from Dozer

I am Little Red Riding Hood, why don't you let

me carry that picnic basket for you? It looks

very heavy and I don't want you to strain yourself.

You can trust me, I won't touch a thing inside.

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(And if you believe this, you don't know corgis!)