Well, she did it again.
In the span of one walk (off-leash), she ate
her sister’s leftover kibble
one gulp of calf poo.
= another bout of pancreatitis.
Rx: Jack Sprat diet, sweet Rosie. I’m sorry.
“Some were fools; they rebelled
and suffered . . .
They couldn’t stand the thought of food,
and they were knocking on death’s door.”