Eleven Years?
Can you believe I've been living here for eleven years? I can still remember that first day, when my mum snuck me into her work in a box because she was too scared to leave me home in case I slipped through the pool fence - back when I was a tiny 3kg. Those were the days.....
On the weight front, there has been a new regime. Breakfast is out. Light dog kibble is in. I am walking miles and I am now down to 37.5kg (from the all time high of 41kg when I was not walking). Everyone is very happy with me, even though my fatty lumps now stick out more. I have a waist! Mum and Dad say I am aiming for a number starting with 36. Personally, I am aiming to distract Misty and steal full strength biscuits. A girl has to keep up her strength!
Here are some photos from Christmas. The close up shows my scar and my weepy eye - it doesn't have as many tears so it gets gunky. I hate having it wiped! And then there is the nose - it gunks up too and if it gets blocked, that's Dad's job. Now, I run away if I see tissues. The indignity!!!
I will leave you with photos of my Christmas bear. I really loved him but alas, he has had a slight decapitation incident (Thanks very much Misty). Right now, he is in intensive care (the sewing room), minus the bits of stuffing that are spread far and wide over the yard. Mum says we might be able to save him.
Hope you are all having a fabulous 2012. My next check up is in March, at which point I will have survived over two years (average survival is 18 months). Pretty good, hey?
Gromit, you are an inspiration! I hope your Christmas bear survives too, or you get a new one. You deserve it. :)
ReplyDeleteHappy Adoption day to you Gromit, and to your family too!
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