I've told Bothwell perhaps it is time for him to get a job.
Since there aren't too many sheep in Porkopolis (it's not called Sheepopolis is it?), he might consider looking into becoming a member of the Geese Police? He reminded me that law enforcement is tough dangerous work and suggested he might, instead, become my official food taster. You can never be too careful, he pointed out; writers can make a lot of enemies.
I'll think about it, I said, while you practice your Stare.
He yawned in reply.