August 5, 2014

I went to the doctor in May. I always go in May, the same month as my birthday. I think it must be a rule that you have to go for your yearly exam in the month you were born. Last year it was right on my birthday. This year, after, he poked and prodded and stuck me with needles, he declared I was overweight by three or four pounds. I think this is what is commonly called adding insult to injury.

So now Mom is saying things like, “I feel sorry for your new Dorothy if she has to carry you.” And, “I think you are panting because you weigh too much.” No, Mom. I am panting because it is 90 degrees outside and my hair is getting long so I can be Toto. That is what dogs do when they are hot, they pant.

I bet you know what happened next. That’s ok, I am going to tell you anyhow. I am on a cruel diet. Dad always feeds me in the morning before Mom gets out of bed, so I am ok there. I have begun to gobble down my breakfast so Mom doesn’t get up and take it away. It has the good canned stuff in it. Then there is my supper. Mom always feeds me my supper. She used to put the good canned stuff in it along with some kibble. Now she doesn’t even put food in my food dish. My poor lonely food dish. My poor lonely tummy.

Do you know what I have to do now to get food in the evening? I have to push a treat ball around the floor and scarf up the kibble that falls out of it. Normally I would turn my nose up at plain kibble, but I think there is something – maybe magic – in the treat ball that turns it into treats. Last night I was almost done when Riley showed up and took my ball away from me. He pushed it with his big dufus T-Rex nose until the last of the magic kibble fell out and he ate it. That was my magic kibble dinner. I am Lexi, the magic kibble dog.