The dog in my crock pot

I have a 7 pound mini-dachshund. She would fit nicely in a hot dog bun with relish, mustard and several diced onions.

When I put my daughter down for a nap each day, she feels the urge to bark. I shall boil her with potatoes and carrots.

In the evening, the dog informs me that her dinner is late by puking. The food must be served at 5pm sharp. Most days, the vomit commences at 4:55 in protest. I will bake her in a nice lemon sauce and serve her with mandarin orange slices.

During the night, she barks and wakes up my child. Perhaps I can sprinkle her with Shake n Bake.

If I leave the front door open, she runs into the street. Time to prepare a stew with moist corn bread.

Alas, not worth more than an appetizer really. I do love her, and it would be a shame to eat her all at once. In the winter she keeps me warm by sleeping on my lap. Perhaps I will remove her innards and replace them with a hot water bottle.