Heaven Can Weight

Imagine going into The Gap and looking for men's' jeans with a thirty-two inch waist and a four inch inseam. It's no wonder my obese puggle, Manny, can't find a thing to wear.

Neither can I, for that matter. I have to squeeze into something black tie-ish by next week, and, well, like Manny, I seem to carry my excess weight around the middle. And, as you can see from the picture, my inseam is not much longer than the height of a big fat shoe.

So we made a pact, Manny and I, to take regular walks and to eat sensibly. Or so I thought. This morning, I came downstairs to find a mutilated and quite empty bag of popcorn on the floor underneath the table on which my daughter had left it last night. Except for a few stray kernels marking a trail to Manny's favorite binging spot on the couch, I would never have believed he could betray me so early in our deal.

Frankly, I don't believe he was working alone. First of all, Manny is way too fat to have leapt up high enough to retrieve the bag of popcorn off the kitchen table. Second of all, there was a full bag of faux bacon dog treats right next to the popcorn, and there is no way Manny would have chosen to munch on low calorie "Skinny Pop" when a veritable jackpot lay a mere two inches to the left. No way.

Since Leo's passing several days ago, there have been several occasions on which I am certain he has come for a visit -- just to check on us. I've heard his toenails clicking on the wood floors downstairs. I've heard him barking in the yard in the middle of the night. I've even tripped on him several times when climbing onto the landing that was his favorite resting spot. It doesn't surprise me at all, then, that last night he visited with Manny, his partner in crime, the original criminal mastermind, and retrieved some treats for him off the table. A nice gesture, complete with a predictable bit of passive aggression in his choice of "Skinny Pop" over delectable bacon treats.

I'm happy Leo is still very much with us, even if it means Manny's diet may have to be put on hold. Maybe Leo will even snarf a few of my french fries when I'm not looking so I can fit into my party dress next week. Now that's what I'd call unconditional love.