May 19, 2009

White Dog watched intently as I cleaned and loaded the stewing hen into the crock pot this morning. She knew this was "her" chicken--to be chopped up and mixed with brown rice and veggies to become her meals for the next week. All day she kept a sniffing vigil and KNEW it was fall of the bone perfect at dinnertime. There was a slight misunderstanding because White Dog thought "her" chicken meant that she could devour it all tonight; instead she merely got a plate...barely enough to stave off the pangs of starvation, if you ask her!