Stew.

I'm writing today about stew. Yesterday Mommy made it. I'm pretty sure it was some elaborate attempt to destroy Smudgie and me. Do others make this thing called stew? I think it should be illegal.

She started yesterday at eight in the morning. First she put fake flour (she's allergic to real) on some perfectly good looking raw meat, and then she cooked it with onions in this really big pot. The smell was AMAZING.

Hudson and I planted ourselves in the kitchen all day, breathing in that glorious smell. And she NEVER LET US TASTE IT.

That is horribly unfair. We did all that supervising, and got paid nothing.

All day long she'd go and stir it. Then, in the afternoon, she added all sorts of yummy things. Potatoes, carrots, celery, cauliflower, beans, corn, peas...It's killing me to list them all. Yum. Yum.

But no. Not one taste for the good dogs of the house.

During dinner Daddy slipped us a little under the table. It was fantastic, but it was only a little taste, and there was tons left over. So, I thought I'd share my thoughts, which are summed up below:

Beef Stew is good.
Not sharing is bad.
Mommy should share.

I think that says it all. Hudson says he got a whole bowl of stew while I was napping, but I think he's lying. I never nap, Mommy and Daddy would not leave me out, and I checked. His beard and breath did NOT smell like stew. I think he's just doing his big brother thing and messing with me.

Take care all, and send stew.

Rudy, who is still stewing about this.