My Own Iron Chef

It's 9:30 pm and you’re back to your kennel, I mean apartment, from a day of shopping/sightseeing/countless parks to pee in, and you’re exhausted, not to mention hungry. Yes you saw all of Stanley Park, parts of Queen Elizabeth Park, all of the beaches in Point Grey… and you’re famished. A dried ooligan is all you've eaten since lunch. Fast food and fast bitches are not what you have in mind. You want to unwind in the comfort of your kennel, I mean apartment, and be fed something gourmet but nothing too rich, something which is comfort food, but without the starch. Many kennels do not keep a marquee chef on staff, BUT MINE DOES. Three-time whiner, I mean “winner” of “Bitches Who Dish Award for Canine Cuisine” (1994, 1999, 2005) just happens to be mine. So at 9:30 p.m. when I’m exhausted and hungry I get room service delivery of chilled organic chicken hearts en gele, yam chips, steamed broccoli flowers, a bowl of organic chicken consommé, and for dessert plain organic yogurt with a squirt of salmon oil concentrate, and a hip massage. T.B. should find someone like her for herself….perhaps in her next incarnation as a dog…..

Mingus, the pampered pooch

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch