As you know, it can at times be difficult to get a decent meal around here and between the dieting and the forced exercise I often find myself at my wit’s end. To make matters worse, I now have to compete for food with the dog (if you haven’t yet met Oscar, click here). I keep telling the clinic staff they need to rein in the little hellion, but my pleas continue to fall on deaf ears. “But Lou,” they tell me, “We put your food on top of the xray table. It’s for your own safety! Oscar can’t get your food on top of the xray table.”
Lies, I tell you, it’s all lies.
I’d like to present the following evidence in hopes that at least someone out there will believe the severity of my plight.
Exhibit A: text messages exchanged between myself and the canine culprit.
Exhibit B: he steals cookies, he steals toys, and you think he’s not capable of stealing my food?! Dear Human, get it together.
Exhibit C: this has nothing to do with the dog, but is an indication of the general torture one can expect to receive here.
On a completely unrelated note, is anyone looking to adopt a wonderful little Dachshund?