Spare Ribs
Roni ate some bbq baby back rib bones...whole.
If that's not enough to give me a heart attack I don't know what is.
To cut to the chase...he's fine. He's as frisky as ever but we have to closely observe him because there's a good chance he'll pass it. But if he doesn't he's going to be rather uncomfortable and verbal about it, so either way we have to stay attentive to him and inspect his poop for bones or blood. What a sexy thought, right?
Because everyone gets a dog to deal with piles and piles of poop.
But he's acting perfectly happy and content so I guess my worries are still unfounded. I was really pissed at Trevor for giving him those bones in the first place but I understand it's not explicitly his fault. Roni was going to eat something whole eventually anyway.
Wanna see our little man? He's huge already and I'm lamenting the loss of puppy but I'm rather proud of what a handsome little fellow he is. But I'll be psyched when he's 100% house trained and I don't have to wake up so darned early to let him out.
Trevor gets out of morning duty but in exchange for that he has to work the night shift. Compromise is the root of any good partnership, right? Perhaps one day we'll be entirely on the same schedule again and I'll see more of him beyond him barking mean orders to me all weekend long as we work on the house. I'm not a handiman, okay? I'm just not. I never claimed to be strong or that I know anything about tools but since I'm his partner in life I somehow end up being forced to hold up things and know what he means when he yells the same demand using the same words 3 times in a row getting more frustrated each time before blowing up and doing it himself.
I didn't understand it the first time so yelling the exact same words again in the same order only proves to not clarify anything except that being a jerk comes far too naturally once he's slinging tools. Is it a guy thing? We get along wonderfully otherwise. Or am I way too laid back? It's just a house project. It's hardly as though we're working on the vaccine for cancer.
Since my kitchen is still in pieces I can't report much on the cooking front. I will however admit I got a 2nd hand meat grinder attachment to use with my Kitchenaid mixer and it's fantastic. How did I function before I could grind my own meat? Clearly it was an empty existence to not be able to buy cheap cuts of meat and make my own mix for meatballs, dumplings and burgers at my leisure. I registered for one but never got it. It was the only attachment I wanted too, which I guess is always the case. I'd like a pasta maker attachment to ease my desire for raviolis but that can wait for another time. I'm the only one who's wild about raviolis here anyway but it'd be a nice treat to have some shrimp and crab filled ones with a cream sauce. I've bought into the hype. I love this mixer. I'd like all the attachments now, please.
If that's not enough to give me a heart attack I don't know what is.
To cut to the chase...he's fine. He's as frisky as ever but we have to closely observe him because there's a good chance he'll pass it. But if he doesn't he's going to be rather uncomfortable and verbal about it, so either way we have to stay attentive to him and inspect his poop for bones or blood. What a sexy thought, right?
Because everyone gets a dog to deal with piles and piles of poop.
But he's acting perfectly happy and content so I guess my worries are still unfounded. I was really pissed at Trevor for giving him those bones in the first place but I understand it's not explicitly his fault. Roni was going to eat something whole eventually anyway.
Wanna see our little man? He's huge already and I'm lamenting the loss of puppy but I'm rather proud of what a handsome little fellow he is. But I'll be psyched when he's 100% house trained and I don't have to wake up so darned early to let him out.
Trevor gets out of morning duty but in exchange for that he has to work the night shift. Compromise is the root of any good partnership, right? Perhaps one day we'll be entirely on the same schedule again and I'll see more of him beyond him barking mean orders to me all weekend long as we work on the house. I'm not a handiman, okay? I'm just not. I never claimed to be strong or that I know anything about tools but since I'm his partner in life I somehow end up being forced to hold up things and know what he means when he yells the same demand using the same words 3 times in a row getting more frustrated each time before blowing up and doing it himself. I didn't understand it the first time so yelling the exact same words again in the same order only proves to not clarify anything except that being a jerk comes far too naturally once he's slinging tools. Is it a guy thing? We get along wonderfully otherwise. Or am I way too laid back? It's just a house project. It's hardly as though we're working on the vaccine for cancer.
Since my kitchen is still in pieces I can't report much on the cooking front. I will however admit I got a 2nd hand meat grinder attachment to use with my Kitchenaid mixer and it's fantastic. How did I function before I could grind my own meat? Clearly it was an empty existence to not be able to buy cheap cuts of meat and make my own mix for meatballs, dumplings and burgers at my leisure. I registered for one but never got it. It was the only attachment I wanted too, which I guess is always the case. I'd like a pasta maker attachment to ease my desire for raviolis but that can wait for another time. I'm the only one who's wild about raviolis here anyway but it'd be a nice treat to have some shrimp and crab filled ones with a cream sauce. I've bought into the hype. I love this mixer. I'd like all the attachments now, please.
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