I'm not usually one to put the blame on someone else. But in this case, it's obvious who is at fault. The facts are all the proof I need. It's his fault.
Fact: In mid September, when Gary's Uncle Victor arrived to live in the adjoining apartment of our house (our guest apartment), I weighed 143 lb. I realize some women don't like to reveal their weight or their age. I don't really care, my life's pretty much an open book.
Fact: today I weigh 148 lb. *Gasp*
Is it Uncle Victor's fault? You bet it is!
It wasn't only requested by him that we go out to dinner with him every Saturday and Sunday... it was expected of us.
He eats slow. Very slow. By the time he's done, I'm ready for dessert...
waitress: "is that all for you today?"
me: "umm. the peanut butter fudge pie...
could you give me a piece to go please?"
Get the picture?
So today, it's with fond farewell that we bid Uncle Victor a safe drive back to Florida where he'll spend the winter before heading north again... and though I will miss him much, I'll be able to focus on eating a little more healthy.
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| Gary and Uncle Victor |
Dear Diary,
Mom says I have a double. I don't know what a double is. Double-stuff oreo cookies. Do I have cookies? I think not.
So anyway... Mom got me a new jacket. It's comfy. She says it's for when I get groomed and my fur is shorter. Whatever the case, I love my new jacket...
And I hope my new boyfriend/neighbor
Max notices me now.
Gracie
