My mom was getting really tired of my finicky digestive system. So she bought some bland diet food at the vet and Mallory, the vet tech, gave her a measuring cup.
“When Gracie’s on a bland diet, move her back to the regular diet very slowly,” Mallory said.
Here’a a photo of me with Mallory (on the right), the vet tech, and Ruth, the office manager, when I visited the vet last March. I’m trying to keep their attention focused on my front end.
Ruth remembers when Cathy first adopted me. “Doesn’t look like the same dog!” she always says. Well, I’m now a Cuppie: a Canine Urban Princess.
Cathy realized she hadn’t been measuring my food, the way she had with Keesha, my predecessor.
“Hmm…maybe that’s why your tummy keeps rumbling,” she said. So now she measures my food — 2 cups a day.
If I don’t eat, it’s gone. No more food for me to nibble when I’m in the mood for a quick snack. My only hope is to sneak over to the cat food.
Then Cathy decided she should walk more. Translation: we will walk more. So yesterday we walked all the way home from the dog park. I’m exhausted. Cathy is too, but she won’t admit it.
“If there’s any justice in this world,” she says, “I would be skinny.”
No comment. You think I’m gonna go there? I’m heading straight for my cushion, saving my energy for the next sock available for chewing.