My saga of weight loss and self-improvement continues. Sometimes Aunt S takes me to the park, where I battle my Cousin R for tennis balls and the prize for getting the most mud on Aunt S. Uncle J and I "ran" a few blocks on the sidewalk today. Well, we trotted. Slowly. I am only willing to go walking and trotting out of the side door rather than the front. There is a perfectly good reason for this, of course, but I'm sure not going to tell Uncle J. He thinks he is so smart, when really he can't even operate the kibble scoop properly to give me the right amount of food. I am so hungry!
I have to eat at the same time as my cousin R, but we each receive our kibble on different floors. You see, R did not grow up in the comfortable suburban developments of Colorado, as I did. He got his start on the harsh streets of Stockton, California, fighting tooth and nail for every last scrap of food. His hip-hop albums, released under the moniker Lil' Stinky, have been praised by critics for capturing the hopelessness and visceral desperation of urban life in the Central Valley. Point being, R is not so good at sharing his food.
Despite my hunger pangs, I have all sorts of new energy, which allows me to do useful things like jumping up and down without my back paws leaving the ground, sort of like an angry horse trying to unseat an invisible rider. Or maybe I am trying to drive my front paws through the floor. Tough to say, really.