Support my Hunger Strike

Here is my food dish...


Here is my fave dinner...


So what’s this ???



I am going to go stay with Uncle Bert this weekend, so the Dogmother has decided that I will have to eat KIBBLE for my visit. Something about Uncle Bert not appreciating bloody bones buried in his new white loveseat...

Surely he will know that a well-aged bone is yummiest? So it gets a little stinky in our hot weather. I really don’t think that our humans understand the finer things in life!

Anyway, all this past week the Dogmother has been filling my food dish with kibbles -- something that I have always regarded as an occasional late night snack, NOT dinner. I have been demonstrating my disgust by refusing to eat this unnatural stuff. It’s a hunger strike!

(I wait until all hope of a real bone has passed & the Dogmother is asleep before cleaning out the dish & in the morning, tell her that we must have had really, really hungry late night visitors.)

So far, it’s not working.

Next, I have to choose only my most favourite toys to take with me...