When I first met my adopted parents I only weighed 2 1/2 pounds. Yesterday at the vets I was cruising the 20 pound marker. I guess it's true what my mom keeps harping about. I'm too fat for my own good but, darn it, I still look sexy in my silver fur.
That day we first met, my dad took me out of the cage and held me up so he could look at my face. Back in those days he chewed a lot of Black Jack chewing gum and he had a pack in his shirt pocket. It smelled so good that I grabbed a stick for myself. That made Dad laugh. I was just barely five weeks old and my real mother wasn't through teaching me how to be a dog, but the lady who owned the cage wanted me gone anyway. So that's how I came to pick out Don and Jean to be my parents. ©
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Oh, Coooper, I feel for you when it comes to the weigh "issue". Past a certain point, the years are not kind for those of us who are used to cruising along, enjoying our meals and eating large amounts of food. I am one of those and now I subsist on food that doesn't seem enough for a flea(oops, sorry, fleas may not be your favorite bug). Anyway, I think you get the idea. Small amounts of food, doled out during the day. I miss eating lots of food at once.
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