Raw Food Diet, Day 560- Celebratory Feasting!

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Big Pupi is PUMPED!!!

DUDES!!!!! It's my birthday today! This national holiday totally snuck up on me, but fear not... I didn't waste a moment of this super day of beasting.

For starters, Stanislaw and I were exploring the crazy fun possibilities of things known as "wedding presents." I used to think they were totally lame and could not comprehend why my people wanted things like plates and lamps. I mean... all they need is ONE bowl the feast out of all the time. DUH!! But all this stink-o stuff comes wrapped in a mountain-sized pile of shreddable goodness! Finally I understand my folks' reasoning behind this so-called "gift giving." They want some rad ripping materials!

To help our folks get started, Stan and I emptied one entire box full of paper and packing and decorated the office while my people weren't home. Mom was so surprised! She LOVES and ADMIRES our interior design skillz. I have to admit... Stan and I were rather impressed by our handiwork. It looks FABULOUS!! I did a thrashing of my pelican stuffy to celebrate our great success.
Then Stan gave me a few birthday face-smacking bum-slaps and we play bowed and growly-wrastled a little in our gorgeous pile of confetti.

Next up came my birthday feast. WOOHOO! Mom got some DELISH plain frozen yogurt and crunchy dehydrated salmon pieces.
Stan and I watched in anticipation. How would she do it? Salmon on top? On the bottom? Mixed in? Oh, we could hardly do our Sit Like Good Boy long enough to earn our treats!
Salmon crunchies on TOP!! Fishy sprinkles! This just so happens to be my FAVORITE!!! How did she know??
No time for singing birthday songs. Lets feast! Feast! FEAST!
Stanislaw sported a fancy schmancy ice cream beard. He tried to slurp it all off before dad attacked him with a paper towel. Paper towels must be hungry creatures - they're always taking food from my brother's schnozzle.
These were my thoughts on the meal:
After all that shredding, human crate thrashing (video to come soon), brotherly wrastling, hard-core frozen fishy delight feasting and general party animalness, I was one POOPED little man. And what's a tired boy to do?
Yup. Sit on the Good Boy Sofa Spot (I can't be naughty while my people are home!) and grip my sleepy-time Nylabone in my feasting hole. Ahhh.

'Twas a good day, folks. And all your birthday well-wishes made it even better.
This 6-year old is checking OUT.

Big Pupi