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We had a good St.Patty's day in our house yesterday. Mom came home from work and said she had a special treat for us. Boy oh boy was I excited. I started spinning in circles and huffing and a puffing. She had gotten us our own chicken breast. She said she needed to grill it first and as much convincing as I tried to do she wasn't hearing any of it.
Out came this thing she calls the George Foreman. Weird if you ask me. But she got it all hot and then put the chicken breast in between these things. I sat there drooling as it was cooking. It smelled so good. A few minutes later it was done. I thought, oh boy it's time to eat now. Nope, she put the darn thing in the fridge. Hey, mom, down here, what the heck are you doing? She said something about it being too hot for us to eat. Blah, blah, blah. So, we waited and waited and waited some more until finally I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up and put my paw down. Okay, so I really didn't do that, but it sounds more dramatic.
Mom got her butt off the couch where it had been firmly planted for a good couple of hours and got the chicken out of the fridge. I think I died and went to doggy heaven it was so good. She tore it apart and hand fed it to us. Delicious I tell ya. After that I planted my butt on my look out spot, in front of the window, and watched all the nutty people walk by with hats and beads on. Minnesota, I tell ya it's one heck of a weird place. Dontcha know!
Griffin
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