Chicken Pot Pie

I should learn not to gloat.

Yep, Kip ate the liver. And then, soon after eating a chicken leg last night, managed to produce copious amounts of vomit. Honestly, I didn't know he had that much capacity.


There was vomit on the floor,
There was vomit on the door,
There was vomit on the rug,
On the couch and on the tug,
There was vomit everywhere.
Even in the poor dog's hair.


Other than the vomit, he was fine. Not lethargic, no fever, so no rushing to the emergency vet. He was fine this morning - he ate breakfast, and his output was fine, and through the normal channel this time.

So, I'm blaming the liver. Possibly too much, too soon. So, we'll try again, with a smaller amount this time. Who knew getting Kip to eat organ meat would be so %*&#@* hard??

You do realize, of course, that this is fate getting back at my for refusing to eat liver, tongue or any other "innard" as a child. Sigh.

Oh, and I won't be eating chicken pot pie anytime soon...

If you can't beat them...

trick 'em!!

I mentioned Kip's first exposure to kidneys recently - it didn't go very well, funny as it was. Tonight, it was liver's turn. So, I thought I would add value to the liver, by turning it into a treat.

Yes, I cut up a few ounces of liver into smaller chunks, then stuffed the chunks into Kip's kong.

By the way, the kong is the purveyor of All Good Things.

Then, I made it even better - by putting the kong on the counter, and working with Kip for a few minutes, heeling around the house and practicing long sits.

It worked a treat, pun intended.

Liver has never disappeared so quickly!

I have to try this with kidneys, to see if it's fail-proof.

Now excuse me - I have to go wash out a kong...

The last supper

Okay, not really. But this is how supper went last night:

Me: Kip, supper time.

Mr. Potato Brain: This is a beef rib. I had a beef rib last night too.

Me: And?

MPB: It's, um, leftovers. I don't want leftovers. Can't I have some chicken instead?

Me: No. Eat your supper.

MPB: FINE. Ohhh, look, Squeaky Squirrel.

Me: Kip, get your supper!

MPB: squeak squeak squeak squeak

Me: Kip, get your supper!

MPB: squeak squeak squeak squeak

Me: {picks up beef rib, puts it back in the fridge}

MPB: HEY! I was eating that! I want it back! STARVING!!!

Me: Nope. You had your chance. Breakfast will be at 8 tomorrow morning.

MPB: STARVING!!! I'm calling Animal Control and telling!

Me: Fine - but how are you going to manage the phone without opposable thumbs??

MPB: Damn you and your logic. *#&$*#@ opposable thumbs!!!!!!


Now note, this is the first time Kip has EVER passed up food. EVER. I'm thinking he just wasn't hungry enough to work for his food. He still gets kibble for breakfast (until the bag is gone), and I'm sure if I had given in and put kibble down, he would have scarfed it up in seconds. But sorry Kip, but I'm more stubborn than you are. You want your supper, you work for it. Silly boy.

Update: Supper tonight:

Me: Kip, supper time.

Mr. Potato Brain: Num num num. Chew-gnash-chew-chew-chew-gnash-smash-chomp. Can I have some more please??