So … today Diane took Ozzie for his poodle-do. He gets those about once a month because he’s a poodle. Not a real one, mind you, but one of the pretend toy ones. But he’s our pretend poodle. Here he is …
It’s odd that he had his poodle-do today because neither Diane, nor her Mom, Jean, were scheduled for haircuts. They almost always get them on Ozzie’s poodle-do day.
Anyway, when Don finally delivered me back home the front door was locked and Diane was gone so I had to find an alternative way into the house.
Wait! You didn’t know I was gone, did you. Well, I was. I was gone for a lot of hours. So, lets go back in time, a little …
On the day I was born it was a bright sunny day. It was raining outside and the snow was about a foot deep. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked … OK, OK! Too far back …
This morning I got up with the intention of getting nothing done before 11:30 am because I knew Don was going to pick me up to go look at his new computer and help him learn how to do ‘things’ on it. This was arranged yesterday. His lovely wife, Judy, bought him the new computer – a 15″ MacBook Pro. Nice. I figure he wanted to just show off because his is bigger than my piddly little 13″-er. But, that wasn’t actually the case. He really had valid questions.
First, however, we went to a beer joint for lunch. I had a bacon cheeseburger with fries. It was really good. I don’t know who paid for it.
From the beer joint we went to Don’s house to check his computer. The issue was he couldn’t print to his wireless printer unless he connected a USB cable. That kind of defeats the wireless aspect. The solution, of course, was to retrain his new computer to do without the USB leash and reach out to the printer with it’s little wireless fingers. Now it works nicely. Don’t know what good it’s going to do him because he and Judy are flying out to Hawaii tomorrow. Lucky duck. They will be gone for a month. Super-duper lucky duck.
When Don and I left our house Diane was in the hot tub downstairs and I didn’t want to have to run out of the garage trying to beat the door as its motor lowered it. So, I went out the front door thinking I’d just lock it on the way out, but the keyring I grabbed didn’t have a key so I just left it unlocked thinking I’d just go back in that direction.
When Don dropped me off at home I waved my goodbyes then went to the front door and found it locked. Mysterious. Then I looked in the garage and found Diane’s vehicle missing. Mysterious-er. I didn’t know she was going anywhere so I was concerned that someone had appeared at the door and hijacked her.
Putting that grim thought aside, I snuck my way around to the kitchen door and found it unlocked. Perplexing. The hijack theory was beginning to sound more plausible. Diane never leaves that door unlocked. Well, almost never. Maybe once in a while.
Once inside, I discovered Ozzie’s kennel upended and empty and I knew Panzie didn’t do it. Neither did the cat. My hijack theory segued into a dog napping. I got a snack thinking I would sit down and ponder all other possibilities for these mysteries. Before I could finish the snack the garage door went up and Panzie started barking, like normal, because Diane was returning.
I restrained Panzie from going into the garage until Diane got parked, then turned her loose to run in the front yard. Opening the driver’s door, like I normally do, Diane told me please get Oz, who was cowering on the passenger seat in his new bandana and hairdo which explained everything.
Then I was given the bad news. Diane said Kay-Kay, Ozzie’s stylist, told her that Ozzie’s fat and needs to lose weight. Diane and I had mentioned that to each other over the past few months, but didn’t do anything about it. Now that we have outside influence we must do something about it.
Therefore, beginning tomorrow morning, much to Ozzie’s dismay, he’s going on half rations. Instead of a full pouch of food each morning, and unlimited crunchies, he’s only getting half a pouch, and unlimited crunchies. If that doesn’t work, the unlimited crunchies will be revisited at a later date.
The only thing that bothers me about all of this is that I had no idea that dog stylists had the authority to dictate how her clients owners should, or should not feed them. But, apparently they do, so we will comply.
I’ll let you know how that goes.
By the way, that’s Ozzie on the left.