Thank you. Thank you. We all thank you...

That Darling Bride just does not understand.  

There is Real Food, which Emma and Phoebe (hereinafter referred to as 'the Girls') expect to eat. 

Nay, demand is a better word.

Real Food is the stuff that they eat with the Darling Bride, whenever and anytime that she eats.  It is what they eat with The Ice Cream Lady on trips up to the lake.  It is what they used to eat with Burntloafer when he would go hunting or fishing, but that seems like a distant memory at this point.  

The point here is that the girls like and expect real food.

And then there is - eww - Dog Food.  Dog Food is the stuff they bring you between meals, as noted above.  It is the stuff that the humans leave in nasty old bowls on the floor, next to an equally nasty bowl of tepid water.  The Girls treat Dog Food in very much the manner in which it is presented.  

Woof there  it is...  Woof there it is...   

Whoever made that song has probably sampled the dog food.

Actually, they treat dog food in much the same way that their old pet Burntloafer treats a Salad.  Dog Food and Salads are just what they bring to you between meals of Real Food.

So back to the Darling Bride.  She went away and left the girls with no one to feed them but old Burntloafer, and he seems much more interested in feeding the neighbors than taking the proper care of the Girls.  The Darling Bride knew that they would be stuck here with that old man, and she knew that they would get hungry, since Burntloafer has never fed them while he eats.  For that matter, he seldom even feeds them the same things that he eats.  

He was obviously raised without the benefit of proper manners, and seldom shares with others. The whelp!

Darling Bride took note of the fact that the Girls are now 'Mature' Dogs, as they are over 13 years old, and in times past, she has let a sales lady sell her "Senior Maintenance" designer dog food.  But before Darling Bride left for her trip, she made an even bigger mistake.

She bought them "Low Calorie Reducing Senior Dog Food"! 

And so, Dear Reader, you must know that the girls would refuse to eat it.  Period.  

It is not like the dog biscuits they get from the drive through window at the bank.  As any properly raised and polite dog knows, you simply take that very delicately and spit it onto the floor of the car, so as to make it clear to the bankers that they ought to know better than to hand out cheap Milk Bone knock offs.  Those, you can always go back and eat when you are safely out of sight of the Tellers - if you have to. 

This new stuff, though, is just bad stuff, and not fit for well bred dogs such as the Girls.

After several days, even Burntloafer knew there was a problem.  He is a thick headed old fool, but eventually even he noticed that they were on a hunger strike.  And he noted to himself that he had only one way to get to the store, and that was on a bicycle.  The thought of such a fat old man on a bike, trying to carry a bag of dog food that was at best akin to salad made them sigh, scratch at the pillows, and go back to sleep.  Let their stomachs rumble.  No one cares.  Sigh.

Then old Burntloafer had an idea.  Since Gladass was feeling neglected as well, what with all the straight yeast breads lately over at the Mellow Bakers, he remembered that he had seen something very interesting on a post called Wild Yeast. That was a recipe for Sour Dough Dog Biscuits.  He had everything needed except for an egg and vegetable bouillon, but those were easily substituted with Miracle Whip and Beef Bouillon.  Whoo hoo!

For an old guy, that Burntloafer really set right to work.

He dutifully made the dough, measuring carefully.  The Nice Lady at Wild Yeast had even made the recipe in grams, so it was easy to follow.

 And soon. the house smelled good again, with the particular aroma of Real Food.  Now, they thought, if they could only wait until nightfall and sneak back down to get whatever that old guy was baking...

 It even had the look and smell of real food!

...and he made enough to last at least two days!

The girls waited patiently, never being so rude as to come right out and object, but they had their ways of letting the old man know that they were not happy with this situation.  They would not even look at him.  

That should show him.

But wait!  

What's that smell?

Could it be?

He did!  He gave us something we can eat!

It's about time!

Thank you, Wild Yeast Lady! 

Thank You!