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bear by san

March 2017



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ace the wonder dog

you're looking at a permanent hurt

The dog approves the portion of the stock-making process where the boiled carcasses get dumped in the garbage, during which any large obvious chunks of meat are pulled off, checked for bone splinters, and dropped on the floor.


Patient cat sits silently at my feet whenever I'm cooking anything that contains meaty bits that might stray in her direction. Raw, cooked, on or off the bone -- if they hit the floor, they're hers!

As long as she doesn't get in the way she gets rewarded with a small chunk of whatever I'm cooking.
We had the same deal with our cats. :)
Oddly enough, our cats don't care for "people meat." However, they will wait patiently (more or less) for a chance to clean up the remains of any marinara-and-Italian-dressing based meal.
Small dog likes this process as well.
The Annie-cat really enjoys this, too, though I tend to put the meat chunks in with a pint of the stock, for either curry or chicken&dumplings or soup. I always set aside some for her. (Who, me, a cat-slave? Um, yeah...)
I read that as "stock market process" at first. That's very different!

On the other hand, I'm with the dog.
I read it as "stock market process" twice, on two different FFLs. Boiled carcasses dumped in the garbage? Yeah, IIRC that's exactly how it went with Lehman.
My dogs have just packed tiny suitcases and informed me that they're moving back east... ;)
My wife often makes a slow-roasted pork shoulder for our New Year’s Eve gathering. At about hour four, the delectable smell of roasting pork wafts through the house, and our older Maine Coon, Cleo, begins to sing to us. We suspect she is telling us tales of how Maine Coons in the wild gather together in packs to hunt down the wild boar, and that is why she deserves tidbits from the feast that is soon to emerge from the oven.
Cleo (our brown tabby) is quite the little huntress; if there’s a bug on the wall, she’ll trill at me until I lift her up so she can stand on the palm of my hand and bat at it. She’s definitely in the “if it doesn’t look right with a dead mouse hanging from its jaws, it doesn’t look like a Maine Coon” standard (but I’m skeptical about the hunting wild boars thing). Yeti (our silver tabby), on the other hand, would probably try to make new friends if he ever met a mouse.
Mmm, this sounds strongly like the late-autumn-early spring times when The Housemate cooks up a large* stock pot of soup, with the exception of the animals getting some.

Kitties *may* get some small amount of greens, if they are good, otherwise they get run out of the kitchen right smart.

(*) For just how large, think a stock pot version of the 'large' coffee in the opening scene of So I Married an Axe Murderer.
Lucky dog. :)
Scary subject line, when the post begins straight off with a reference to GRD. Glad to see it's just the usual lyrical synergism!
Once, when I was making faux-Mexican at home, Lintball, the fluffy ball of fluff, demanded to be fed whatever SUPER-INTERESTING piece of ingredient I was handling just then. I had no idea that cats liked jalap[enos, but he demanded more after having a taste.
How strange! This is Shasta's favorite part of any cooking duty, too ....
Our Snikki loves that, too... but we have to be careful, because too much of it leads to intestinal nastiness. :P STINKY intestinal nastiness.