Back in my Weight Watchers baby weight banishing days, I drew the line at licking the open dishwasher door to get stolen calories.
It is not beyond our dog, of course. This morning, as I loaded the dishwasher she was skulking nearby waiting for milk and juice to drip out of the kids’ breakfast cups. I guess that is what happens when a dog goes on a diet.
A few weeks ago hubby took Junie to her annual checkup at the vet. She gained 6 pounds since last year, which is significant because of her size. She is a dachshund/Australian shepherd mix, but more on the dachshund end of the spectrum than the Aussie end. Her weight was showing, too. The doctor advised us to cut back on her food and be more vigilant about table scraps and crumbs from the kids. More exercise is in order, but winter got in the way. As the weather has improved she has seen more zipping around the backyard time with the kids.
Junie is already looking more streamlined, but old habits die hard. She looks so hopeful as we sit down to dinner every night. She sits by the kids who are notorious for “accidently” dropping their cous cous and “losing” their pork chops. Under threat of losing privileges the kids have been good about guarding their food from going AWOL, tragic falling accidents, and alien abductions.
She seems hungry sometimes and I worry about going to the opposite extreme and turning her into the canine equivalent of a waifish supermodel. She already has the attitude. Hubby’s solution is to give baby carrots to her as a crunchy treat in between meals of Pedigree, garnished with Alpo in a light gravy, and a bowl of cool water on the side. Who couldn’t lose weight on a diet like that?
