But at our house, you sadly cannot get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.
Meet Alice, my not-so-mini-Mini Schnauzer.
Cute as she is, Alice has a bit of a weight issue. She’s never met a Snausage she didn’t like.
At her last vet appointment, the doctor said she’s at least 3lbs overweight. I gasped, covered her ears, and hissed, “She’s not fat. She’s just fluffy!” He remained unconvinced. Whatever. Fine. So I’ve put her on reduced calorie doggie food which I can only imagine must taste like the bottom of an empty pizza box. I also take her for a 30 minute walk around the neighborhood at least a couple of times a week. We both look longingly at the ice cream store at the corner where we would usually stop in for a Frosty Paws and a small chocolate soft serve (it’s for the kid! I swear it!).
She seems to be recovering some of her girlish figure, but I’m having some ethical issues. I know it’s not healthy for her to be fat and all, but the poor creature follows me around the house with a look on her face that says “I’m hungry, mother.” I toss her a carrot, a piece of celery or a chewey, but she just looks down at it, shifts her weight from paw to paw, and looks back up at me like she gets the joke but doesn’t think it’s funny. Her inner fat girl demands cookies! I can relate! It sucks when people won’t give you cookies!
So, how do I explain the concept of a diet to a creature whose intellectual pursuits include nosing through the trash and growling at her own butt?