I remember when my hubby witness his first whelp. He was running around like a chicken with his head cut off. I vividly remember at one point the phrase, "She's eating that! She's eating that! Someone stop her she's eating that!" We called him Prissy. ("He don't know nothin bought birthin' no puppies.") Luckily, I didn't require his assistance.
The second time he started to kind of panic again and I cut him off--either shut up and calm down, or go get some food. The BBQ was good.
Quote:
Originally Posted by bettyeanne  [Hey, Misty, how about last Saturday?? Did you go?] |
No, was planning on making a day out of it, but got Talladega Suite & Pit passes at the last minute--hard to pass up. Watched the game on PPV from there though.