Leftovers.

Excellent leftovers tonight.
Lamb chop bones and scrapings of cauliflower cheese, potatoes with parsley and butter, peas and lemon meringue pie. Almost didn't get them, though, because George started fussing about bone splinters. There were a few heart-stopping moments with George standing poised with the plate above the open dustbin, (new one which I absolutely can't get in to), while I sat with a big drool-pool forming by my paws and concentrated on tragic, tragic thoughts until he gave in. (I did get a little splinter, but it went down later with my own dinner.) Clarice was being picky about her dinner as usual. 'What the hell is this? I don't like this flavour. You know I dont like this flavour. Why do you keep buying it?'
'What's wrong?' says George. 'Don't you like this one?' He looks at the pouch. 'It says "Gourmet Rabbit". It's lovely.Look.' He stirs it with a fork 'Come on, eat it up, it's lovely.'
'I'll have it.' I can't help saying.
'Stop that barking'. shouts Graham from the lounge.
George prods the food. 'Why do you always do this?' he says. 'What flavour would you eat?'
'Well..' says Clarice, 'Mouse would be good.'