Yesterday I had my annual medical review. I consider myself to be a pretty fine specimen of a fish retriever so of course assumed that I would pass with flying colors. I’m pleased to say that my general health is good, but our doctor said my waistline needs a little work.
When Daddy is not away in far away lands, he always gives us breakfast which is really good because he gives us more than Mummy. For a while now, he’s been earning dog biscuits at our kennel and gives us breakfast every day so it’s been a while since we’ve had to survive on the meager rations that we get when he’s not here. Of course, we never pointed out that we were getting more food. It’s a matter of survival. After all, you never know when something bad might happen and all the kibble reserves dry up. We would then be thankful for having eaten a little more when there was a plentiful supply. Apparently, our doctor doesn’t understand this. Can you believe he’s put me on a diet?
Talisker
No comments:
Post a Comment