After seventeen years, I think I have finally got Softie and the British One trained.
For the past week, I’ve feasted on succulent, hot, diced chicken from the big, cold food box. Normally the pair of them alternate the diced chicken with tins of food, but suddenly last week they wised up and started serving me diced chicken for each meal. It’s about time!
I gobble up every delicious morsel and then a few hours later, if I am clever enough to successfully mind-meld with one of them, they give it to me again. I’ve got the British One so wrapped around my paw that he fixes up an extra serving for me for lunch! Three portions of delicious chicken a day! I am finally eating like the royalty I am.
Softie picked me up last night and commented that I was “finally starting to fatten up.” For a long time she’s told me I am too skinny and boney. I heard her tell the British One that she couldn’t feel my boney spine anymore and that I look healthier and better.
I’d have fattened up a lot sooner if those two goofs would have been feeding me diced chicken for every meal!
I’ve only been trying to tell them for the last seventeen years…