I was feeling generous last night after I cut up a roasted chicken for dinner. Generous and stupid because I totally ignored the fact that the rest of the night and this morning would be filled with roasted chicken dog farts. Lemon and herb scented canine flatulence.
The way each of them holds their head when I tell them to wait says so much about their individual personalities.
Chuck: “Sir desires me to wait.”
Coco: “CHICKENCHICKENCHICKENCHICKEN.”
