Good Boy. Good Thing You Can’t Talk.

VFDDawg #3 got lucky twice today.  He got to eat spaghetti.  Twice.  Not two separate servings.  The same serving, twice.  Dumb dog, he ate a bellyful and a half, yakked it up on the kitchen floor, and left it long enough for DW to see the mess.  She declined to clean it up long enough for the dog to begin to have another go at his meal.  She started being grossed out, but I told her to remember it was just that someone had spilled a bowl of s’getti on the floor.  That worked.   She chilled out again.

Nevermind the dog had spilled it out of his gullet.  He was cleaning it up, so it was okay with me.  But it was a big helping and he had a light stomach.  He couldn’t eat it all at once (again).  DW asked me to clean it up as she was on the way out the door to take a couple of anklebiters somewhere.  I went back to the kitchen, and more of the mess had cleaned itself up.  I moved the furniture that was blocking access to what was left.  Came back a few minutes later and the rest of the spaghetti was gone, along with some old kibble that had snuck under the furniture.

Good boy.

I’d give him a treat but… I think he’s full.


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