A Tender Garden of Kibble

What a dinner. Someone get me a snifter of consomme and a rawhide cigar. 

Ugh. I REALLY overdid it last night. Here's my recovery diet. 

Breakfast.

My research indicates: no. But I'll keep studying it...

At first I thought this place was serving cat sandwiches. Now I'm disappointed.

I refuse to be subtle when there are macarons nearby.

Oatmeal in my bowl: creamy, nutty, warm... Outta my way!

Jus de mer. Tres bien! Merci beaucoup!

A cruel truth: sometimes the things that are the most satisfying to chew are not very good to eat.

Bowl of kibble and some pan-grilled chicken. Like warm hugs in my bowl at the end of a frigid winter day.

Romaine, not so much. Hideous stuff.

Sometimes the perfect end to a long day can be found in the comfort of root vegetables in your bowl.

Tolbert can keep his bowl of red; after taking on all comers at doggie daycare for eight hours straight, give me a bowl of kibs.

Ice cream in wintertime? If it means sampling a new flavor, I consider it a moral responsibility.

I love a crunchy, crumbly late-night snack. Bon soir.

Sometimes simple is best. I recently started eating Advanced Fitness, not to be vain or trendy, but because I like it.

Kibble, with half a can of wet food: turkey stew. Divine!