Kibbles and Bits

There’s simply no quibbles; my dogs love their kibbles. There’s really not much else to say. In an instant, they’re gone, reappear on the lawn, changed a bit in the usual way. As for me, I’d want choice, for they’re not even moist. (The food bits; I need to be clear) As for pooping outside, that is one I’ve not tried (‘cept those nightmares you wake from in fear) A sure sign man’s evolved are the challenges solved: both our plates and our bathrooms are plush. ‘Bout this, more could be said, but my mother is dead, or she’d probably tell me to hush.