Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.


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» Thursday, December 26, 2013
Feeding Miss Willow
When I got up this morning, I got a wag out of Willow, but I was still concerned about getting her to eat. I remembered that I had a leftover chicken thigh in the refrigerator, but I also knew that it had been seasoned. I dismembered it and shredded out the interior that didn't have salt and paprika on it, and then gave a few pieces to her. You should have seen her wolf them down! I only let her eat a few because I wanted to see how she reacted, but she kept them down well. Again, I offered her the plain mini-biscuits with no dye in them, and some of the unsalted chicken broth. She ate and drank, and I noticed she didn't look so sad today. About noon I gave her a little more chicken, and then about four the rest of it, and she was fine with it.

I wanted to vacuum, but instead of bothering Willow, ran the Carpet Flick over the rung instead, put some things up, loaded the dishwasher and started it, swept the kitchen, and washed three loads of clothes, plus I programmed the new phone with numbers. We needed BreatheRight strips, and just in time a coupon from CVS turned up in e-mail, so about 2:30 I went to CVS, then hopped over to Bed, Bath & Beyond to spend an expiring coupon, and stopped in at Petco to look for a millet holder for Snowy. It was a nice bright blue day—almost too blue and bright for driving!—and just chilly enough to be nice. By the time I got home James was home (he would have been home earlier, but he had to go to Kaiser for a new prescription). We had some chicken breasts thawed; one he cooked up for Willow with carrots and celery in no-sodium broth, and the rest we crockpotted with cream of onion soup and vegetables for another meal.

Well, Willow completely flummoxed us. While the chicken was cooking she was so completely attentive! When it was just cooked we gave her bits of it and she wolfed them down. But James wanted it to be more nutritious for her, and took the carrots and celery in it, pureed them, and then put them back in the broth and cooked them with brown rice. We dished up a nice little bowl for her: and she wouldn't eat it. This is a dog who would wolf down raw carrots her whole life, who'd wait for them to be tossed to her!, and all of a sudden she won't eat them, raw or cooked. I don't understand! I understand when she was in pain, but why have her tastes changed all of a sudden?

Anyway, later I managed to feed her a couple of pieces of it, and I even picked the carrots out of it, but she just doesn't want it!

There wasn't a thing interesting on television tonight, so I put on the "Merry Sitcom" DVD with Christmas episodes from That Girl, McHale's Navy, Father Knows Best, The Donna Reed Show, Bewitched (the episode with Bill Mumy), and an obscure series with Robert Young called Window on Main Street, about a widower writer who returns to his home town. You'd never see a series like this today; too low key!

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