From Falstaff to the current governor of New Jersey, people who have - um - more to them then others have been looked down upon by others. And, I have to be honest, here, I'm sure it's troubling to those people. After all, it's not always possible to control one's body dimensions. I heard on the radio the other day that people who play basketball are over seven feet tall! And, I know that there are those who are somewhat shorter than average. And, for those people, no one blames them for being "too tall" or "too short"; it's genetics.
Which brings me to my current dilemma. See, Izzi and I went to the vet today and I got some news that I found a little troubling. But, before I share with you what we spoke of, I wanted to talk a little about the visit itself. Not only will it help you understand my current state of mind, but it will also give me time to continue to absorb and - as they say on Oprah - "process" what I heard.
Izzi and I woke up to our usual Saturday, which is the same as our usual Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and so on: mama got out of bed and we followed. After a little while, we went downstairs and discovered that our breakfast wasn't ready yet, which was okay because we don't really understand when we're supposed to it; we do it whenever there is food put out for us, and neither Izzi nor I care much for labels like "breakfast" or "brunch" or "second dinner". So, it seemed like a perfectly ordinary day, and we thought that we'd be able to go outside since the sun was out again! But, before we had a chance to spend too much time outside, we were scooped up and brought to mama's car.
I have to tell you that going in mama's car is never a good time for me. I know that Izzi is pretty cool with it, but I just can't seem to calm myself done. I'm always worried that we're going to the groomer. So, off we went in the car and I tried as best as I could to explain my discomfort with the situation, by barking, yipping, whining, and whining some more. Izzi, meanwhile, sat on mama's lap and seemed to enjoy the ride. Sometimes I have my sister! We drove for about a thousand hours, and then we stopped and were carried (carried! we knew something was up) to a place that didn't smell like the groomer, so we felt safe. But, then we were going inside a place that we'd been in before: it was our vet!!! Today was checkup day and we didn't know. The first thing that we had to do was stand on a rectangle so we could be measured, but I didn't want to and Izzi didn't want to and so we kept walking off the rectangle and pretty soon someone said that we'd find another way to get measured.
And, that, friends, is when I got the disturbing news. They put us on a scale in a special room and we stood on a smaller rectangle. I went first. And, I have to tell you that when the number came up, I was a little embarrassed. Then, it was Izzi's turn and she was so much - um - less of a dog that I was, that I was even more embarrassed. I'll tell you what we saw: Izzi now weighs 6.14 pounds (which means that she is 6 pounds, 2 ounces [and a little more]); I (gulp) and 7.68 pounds (7 pounds and almost 11 ounces). Now you see why I'm so bothered: I weight over a pound and a half more than my big sister!
And, like I was saying, it's not my fault. Okay, sure, I like to eat perhaps a bit more than my sister, but she's a picky eater. For example, last night when we had our tooth-cleaning 'bones', I gobbled mine up as usual, while sister barely touched hers (in fact, I felt so bad for the bone that I later dragged it onto the floor and ate it so that it wasn't sad). And, just yesterday afternoon when we were getting Froot Loops as a treat, Izzi didn't want hers and I didn't want anyone to step on it so I sucked it up. You can see that many of the times that I have "taken one for the team," it's ended up in my waist. And butt.
So, while I will say that it's not my fault that I'm big boned, and while it's not my fault that I care too much about this house to leave a mess, and while it's not my fault that food from my mama tastes so yummy, I will say that if it wasn't for all the food I eat, no one would get the pleasure of rubbing my big belly.
So, like those other people who have had to address this weighty issue, I am proud of my figure and I wouldn't change a thing!! Except maybe to have two teeth-bones every night.
Arf, Yip, Arf, Yip,
Rozi (& Izzi, who helped with the speling)
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