Don't need creamy potatoes.

Look kiddies, roast chicken for dinner.

"Yum."
"Dad, go get those creamy potatoes too."
Daisy, you little round barrel, you don't need creamy potatoes.

*both looking down* "Well, where is it ?" "Dad, where's the chook ?"
It's for supper kiddies, you'll just have to wait.

Si the Dogblogger

Cooking meals for diabetic dogs.

Been to the vet again today, having Monty's blood checked. His blood sugar is high, so more insulin.

I've just spent hours reading on forums on what to feed diabetic dogs.
What do ya think, Monty ? Beef, veggies and brown rice, with a bit of Worcestershire Sauce for flavor.
"Smells good Dad. Just make it a big bowl full please."

Can do, and you can lick the spoon too.
"Yum. Hey, that's not bad, Dad."
Well there's eight meals there, so you'd better like it.
Si the Dogblogger

Smelling sweeter.

Poor Monty is off to the vet for the day to have his blood sugar checked.
I let Daisy and Monty out for a quick walk and a wee before heading off to the vet, to find that Daisy had rolled in something absolutely disgusting. So I hosed her down, threw them in the car and raced to the vet.
Monty is asleep in their back room, but Daisy went into their hydrobath !

You smell a lot sweeter now, my little girl.
"Yes Dad. Sorry about that."
Si the Dogblogger

Bridesmaids

"What are we doing this arvo', Dad ?"
We're gonna watch Bridesmaids. That should be good for a laugh.

"Yay. That sounds like fun. Can we have chippies too ?"
Oh yes, of course. We must have chippies.

"Can we have cheesy-bits too ?"

Ooooh yes, of course. There will definitely be cheesy-bits.
"Yay."

Si the Dogblogger

Dad. We're bored.

"Dad, we're bored. Can we go for a walk?"
Sorry kiddies, but I have to finish cleaning first.

"Clean what, Dad ?"
You fur, Monty's pee, all your old bones, all the grass seeds you just pulled out of your feet, someone's vomit, muddy feet, oh, and whatever it is you found and dragged in yesterday.

"Oh. OK. We'll wait then."

Si the Dogblogger

Worse than the disease.

Hmm, it must be 5:30. That pose is Monty's hint that it's time to head home for supper.

Are you hungry, Monty ?
"Starving, Dad. Absolutely starving. It's 5:30, almost 6, and that's my supper time."

Poor Monty. Supper is at 11pm now, timed for your insulin injection.

*groans* "But I'll die of hunger. Honestly Dad, the cure is worse than the disease."
Si the Dogblogger

Move, fools !

"One side, knaves."

"Step aside, ye scurvy dogs !"

"Move or I will squash you like a bug !"
What's all that grumbling there, Monty ?

"Oh, nothing Dad. Just feeling like a king after all my drugs and tablets."

Si the Dogblogger