What's Cookin' Wednesday

Whole Grain Wednesday

Innocent Until Proven Guilty

Happy Friday, Friends!

I was just wonderin' - do you ever get accused of doin' stuff around your house that you haven't a clue about what happened? Happens to me all the time. For instance, just this mornin' I overheard Mom tellin' Dad that the bar of soap is missin' from her shower and that I am under suspicion for it's absence. Now, I'm talkin' about the woman that has put dirty dishes in the refrigerator instead of the dishwasher (that sits right beside it) talkin' and accusin' me of bein' a culprit in the crime of the missin' soap. Who knows where she mighta put the soap. Mebbee in my younger days I woulda pulled a stunt like that - but come on!!! I'd like to be appreciated for the mature dawg that I've become, at least every oncet in awhile. Sigh........what's a dawg to do? If'n you have any suggestions, puhleeze let me know. Until then, I will just continue to try to impress upon my PUs a squeaky clean image of my Big Brown self.

Now don't worry your furry little heads about this ~ I wanna hear back from you on Monday that you're guilty of a whole bunch of fun this weekend. 

Chester ;0=)

Wasted Wednesday

WW4K (Will Work for Kibble)

"The Life of Riley" was a popular American radio situation comedy series from the 1940's. In 1949 it was adapted into a feature film and then it bcame a long runnin' television show in the 1950's. The first season, well-known Jackie Gleason starred in the role of Riley and then William Bendix took over the role for the next six seasons. Bendix's character was (get this!) Chester A. Riley, a blunderin' wing riveter at the fictional Cunningham Aircraft plant in California. His frequent exclamation of "What a revoltin' development this is!" became a very popular catch phrase of the era.

This brings me to my point: a revoltin' development also occurred here over the weekend. All was goin' down per our usual weekend ritual, my breakfast consistin' of 2 cups of kibble lightly seasoned with a fish oil tablet and a half a bucket of water, give or take a couple slurps. A trip outside to take care of bizness and check the perimeters for illegals, then back inside to await what sort of entertainment my PUs had in store for me.

I soon realized that I would not be accompanyin' Mom to see my GrandPUs - sumpthin' about them havin' a lot of important papers to be sorted and not needin' me there to help. I pride myself on my ability to sort and shred what I deem to be unnecessary, but - whatever! That meant that I would be with Dad who spends most of his time outside which is just fine by me. I only had to do one more thing before Mom left and that was to remind her that my kibble bag was near empty. I also informed her that if she didn't take care of the situation, I would not be held responsible for my actions.

The day unfolded and I supervised Dad as he took care of the outside chores. To lighten his load and to prevent dullness from settin' in, I took my ball to him occassionally so he was not all work and no play. Much was accomplished by the time that Mom finally rolled in. To my delight, she unloaded a brand spankin' new bag of kibble. Premature drool started to form on my jowls even though I knew I had a few hours before dinner would be served.

Finally the wait was over and Mom asked me if I wanted my supper. DUH! Like why would you even ask? Of course I am always ready to eat. My exterior portrait of patience belied the waves of tumult washin' through my innerds. You see, I have been brainwashed taught that I must wait for the "okay" before divin' in.

Chester's Mom: Okay!

(slurp, crunch, lick, crunch, inhale, lick, slurp..........head tilts with question)

Chester: Excuse me, I do believe you shorted me.

Chester's Mom: I did not short you - this is your portion from here on out.

Chester: Nope, I distinctly counted and I am 43 pieces of kibble short.

Chester's Mom: That was intentional and like I said, this is your portion for each meal starting today.

Chester: You've got some 'splainin' to do and you need to start NOW!!!

Apparently I was already startin' to feel faint from weakness because the words that I was hearin' come outta her mouth were beyond comprehension. She was sayin' that the 2 legger who sells my food told her that the diagram on the food bag that shows the rate of kibble to be dispensed per weight of dog is for workin' dawgs and generally not the rate for your average household pet. My mind cleared for just a second because I know for sure that my job title as head of Homeland Security is clearly that of a workin' dawg.

Chester: So tell me again Mom, why am I still bein' shorted 43 pieces of kibble?

Chester's Mom: You are correct in that you are head of Homeland Security around here and I feel much safer knowing that no groundhogs or squirrels will invade the comforts of our home but....your job is not the same as a dog who is on the go all day long. Your days in bed are gradually starting to soften your shape and I'd like to stop this progression before it becomes a problem.

Chester: Look here woman, I am comfortable in my own skin and am not tryin' to impress anybody with a rock hard body.

Chester's Mom: It's too late, your father and I have already discussed this and we both agree you're on the verge of becoming overweight. You do realize don't you, that if you are overweight, you are not going to be as fast and could affect your groundhog count.

Oh no!!! Dad's been brainwashed too. Now I really got my work cut out for me.

It's Monday and as you can see, I'm gonna do whatever it takes

to earn my kibble this week, as I'm sure you will too.

I hope your benefits are better'n mine.

Chester ;0=)

Weiner Eatin' Winner Wednesday

Weiner Eatin' Wednesday

Propaganda

In this day and age it seems that anyone and everyone is allowed to produce fraudulent readin' material. The worst part is that much of it is bein' embraced by the general public.

Unfortunately I'm findin' out the hard way that none of us are

immune to the type of subculture that produced this next piece of hogwash.

The article I am speakin' of is a feature in the 

December issue of FIDO magazine. 

This doctrine of misinformation would have gone unnoticed by Dad had it not been thrust under his nose. I'm afraid he has succumbed to it's powerful, yet misguided message, 

for it was not long after readin' it that he said the words I 

thought I would never hear comin' out of his mouth: 

"Sorry Ches, that's all you're getting - I'm cutting back".

I don't know who Arden Moore and Vladislav Roytapel are

but obviously they've got a bone to pick with the dawg community.

Rather than bore you and waste your valuable time, I have chosen

to emphasize the more poignant parts of this full page article.

This would be a caricature of the female half of the battle.

(I think this captures the essence of Mom fairly well, don't you?)

This would be a caricature of the male half of the battle.

(This looks nuthin' at all like my dear, sweet dad.)

The followin' excerpt includes some of the most

agonizin' and pathetic advice you will ever read.

(click on article to biggify so as not to miss a single lie)

Now, with my literary license and my trustworthy red pen,

I have taken great pleasure in rectifyin' this madness so that

it reflects what I'm sure you dawgs were already thinkin'

as you read the above.

(again, biggifyin' this will help)

Well, it may not be perfect but at least it's much better than that other rubbish. I will insist that FIDO magazine print a retraction

in hopes of savin' future distress of my canine brothers and sisters.

It's too late for me, the damage here has been done as evidenced by the followin' picture. These buckets are for my Pappy's barn

kittehs and they are overflowin' with the abundance of table scraps

that used to be mine. They are eatin' mighty well for a bunch

of mangy felines who should be earnin' their keep

by managin' the mouse population in the barn.

But no, now they are loungin' in the hayloft with full bellies,

and lickin' their greasy paws with turkey breath.

I've even pulled out some of my best beggin' maneuvers

but they have generated very little in the way of personal payoff.

(Sigh), I am still quite disturbed not only because of the 

cutback of table scraps; but even more so it grieves my

Big Brown heart to know that there exists such a cruel

clique that would take aim against us dawgs who

feast offa table scraps like kings and queens 

take pride in our faithful association with our 2 leggers.

At least it's Friday which is always a great payoff after a long week.

I hope your weekend overflows with an abundance of good stuff.

Chester ;0=)

(meanwhile, down on the farm)

Windpipe Wednesday

Top Chef

The older I get, the more I realize the days of my youth were spent in frivolous pursuits. I wandered and explored at every turn of the PUs' backs. My whims led me from room to room, seein' interestin' new sights and sniffin' rare smells that I had never encountered in the stable where I first lived. Some might argue that it is good to leave no stone unturned, that traversin' one's domain at a young age actually helps to find what will satisfy one's spirit as the years go by. This may be true so I won't belittle the point, but sumtimes I now wonder if I had concentrated more on the kitchen area maybe my culinary skills would have been that of a top chef.


Not to say that my interests in the other parts of our home have subsided. No, not in the least. It's just that when Mom's in the kitchen I am right by her side, watchin' her every move and ready at a moment's notice to assist. I am entranced as I watch her move from the 'fridge to the counter to the stove and back to the 'fridge time and time again. Foodables movin' to and fro as rivers of drool drop steadily from my jaw and my nose tingles in the wake of their scent.

Nevertheless, I am a quick study and have absorbed much. Choppin', gratin', stirrin', pourin' are tasks of which I have perceived as bein' the greatest of the food preparation skills. To the untrained eye, they may seem menial and common. To me they are the most interestin' simply because the more the foodables move, the more likely they are to be dropped and or spilled. This is where my competent clean-up assistance is a highly regarded talent. Had I been more interested as a pup, would my culinary career be further along? We may never know. But, my zeal and attention to the task at hand (or in this case, paw) was noticed by my mentor who has given me the title, "The Quicker Picker Upper".

Not one to waste an opportunity, I am excited to announce the development of

my own personal line of kitchen products. Here is the first of what I

hope is to be many :

*Comin' soon to a grocery store near you.

Now the weekend is just around the corner,
and I don't know of any quicker picker upper than that!


Bone Appetit!
Chester ;0=)

Spring Thaw

Hail? No.......

...... just a little freezer defrostin'.

Ok, it's empty except that cryogenically frozen stink bug there in the back.

Got all my tools ready. I was thinkin', if I take my good old time,

the meat will thaw and I can have all my friends over

for a big old BBQ feast. Temptin'......

... But Mom musta been readin' my mind 'cuz she took over while I

supervised from a comfortable position.

I carefully inspected each and every package as

it was put back into the freezer.

Well now, that little project can be crossed off the to-do list.

I'm a thankful dawg because I realize not everybody has

such a stockpile of food and I know I am blessed.

But, am I just as thankful that it's Monday already?

Like I already said, Hail No!!!

Chester ;0=)

Simply SAD

Note the fact that I am inside but yet it looks like snow on my nose.
But it can't be snow, it smells much tastier.

No matter how far I stretch, I can't reach it.

So close, yet so far.

Maybe if I rub my nose on my leg, I can get a taste.

Sigh....there's just got to be a way.

This is surely goin' to drive me insane.

Hurry up Spring!

I was concerned that my PUs are sufferin' from some kind of

SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). The symptoms of that are depression, pessimism and lack of pleasure. But, since they seem to be gettin' major pleasure out of usin' this dawg for their entertainment purposes, I don't think they are sufferin' from SAD. 

I, on the other hand, think it's very SAD that they have
resorted to tauntin' me with Cool Whip to relieve their boredom.

I don't know how much more I can take.


Well, at least it's Friday so I feel better knowin'
that none of you are SAD either.


I hope your weekend whips up to become quite COOL!
Chester ;0=)