I wonder what it says about you if you fancy-schmancy silly dog wins a battle of the wills over you?  Louie has been protesting his Tux biscuits for a while now gradually taking longer and longer to eat them, culminating in a total biscuit strike that started in the weekend.  He will eat his meat, of course, so he wasn’t starving, though it’s not like he couldn’t afford to lose a few rolls.  Anyway, this morning he performed perfectly and sicked up yellow bile on my wool rug just to prove his point –“hey look there is nothing in my tummy because I’m NOT eating those stinking biscuits!”.

So, Ethan and I just returned from the supermarket with not one but two different packs of fancy bikkies, which I will combine to suit his $1200 taste buds.  I guess he showed us huh?

It really shows off his lovely teeth, don't you think?

The dog had too much fur, it dragged on the ground and it doesn’t appear as if his legs are getting any longer – so Dave trimmed him up.  Nothing crazy, no highlights or anything, just a number four all over, and a new sweater so he doesn’t get cold!