Fat Tuesday–There’s a holiday for that?

This is so awesome!  They made a holiday just for full-figured folks like me.  I threw myself into the celebration whole-heartedly.  I have to tell you all about it….

So…. because it was unseasonably warm, I chose to attend the Mardi Gras festivities sans clothing.  Immediately, guys were giving me shiny beads to wear around my neck.  Aren’t they pretty?  Apparently, that’s a thing…..

Then I heard that the person (or dog) that finds the plastic baby in their piece of cake wins a special prize.  Being the highly intellectual girl I am, I decided to improve my chances dramatically (to 100%) by eating ALL the cake before anyone else could get any.  Guess who got the plastic baby?  ME!  (I really can’t believe no-one else figured out that strategy before)  My prize?  A super pretty, but quite uncomfortable and rather precarious TIARA.

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After my amazing cake win, we all enjoyed quite a few yummy cocktails, resulting in the loss of my beautiful tiara.  I’m sure some other B____ found it and took it home.  I begged for another tiara, but was denied.  I even said I was willing to eat another whole cake.

Some more raucous partying ensued — we played a little fetch, drank some more cocktails, chewed on some people’s shoes, drank some more cocktails, did a little karaoke, drank some more cocktails, and reflected on the past year.

 

By the end of the evening, I was dog-tired (see what I did there?)

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My Mom tells me the next 40 days are a time for quiet reflection,  spiritual contemplation, and self-denial.  I think I could use the former, given my current headache situation, and the latter should help with my diet.  Here’s to Lent.

 

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DIET?! NOOOOO!

Remember how I was complaining about total strangers coming up to me, unsolicited, and telling me I was fat?  Well…..as it turns out, and this is very difficult for me to admit….they were right.  Last week my mom took me to the vet for my 1 year old check up.  All those bitches at the vet’s office (women I previously referred to as my special friends) were in a conspiracy.  First of all, the girl operating the scale said I weighed 64 lbs.!  IMPOSSIBLE!  Last time I was there, in July, when I was 8 months old, I only weighed 45 lbs.  I could not have possibly gained almost 20 lbs. since then.  Clearly, the scale was, as our president would say, “rigged”.  Then the vet (another person I used to like) said I was “flabby.”  How rude!  She said I need to lose 10-15 lbs.  I don’t think she realizes that is almost one-fourth of my body weight!  She is, obviously, insane, and part of this rigged system to torture me.  To add insult to injury, she gave me 3 shots.  Very bad day.

The vet told my mom I need to go on a diet.  I didn’t know what that meant until the next morning when there was barely any kibble in my bowl. AND, where the extra kibble should have been, there were cucumber slices.  Are you kidding me?  Dogs don’t eat vegetables.  I gobbled down all my breakfast (including the dreaded vegetables — hey, a girl’s gotta eat) in less than a minute.  I was STILL very hungry.  I tried to relay this fact to my mom.  First, I flipped my metal bowl upside down and kicked it around the kitchen floor.  Mom just took it away.  Then I sat and barked at the “vittles vault”, the impregnable pet food container.  Mom ignored me for a while, then told me to be quiet.  Lastly, I tried eating my mom’s feet, just to show her how very hungry I was.  That got me banished to the back porch.

After breakfast (or as I call it now, “hors d’oeuvres”), we usually go for a walk.  Mom told me that now, because I need to lose weight, we are going to go for a longer walk in the morning AND two more walks a day.  She has clearly lost her mind.  How could I possibly go on a LONGER walk when I have no energy due to my totally inadequate food supply?  I cannot be expected to go farther on less fuel.  That’s just bad math.

As it turns out, I survived the walk, and the two more.  But I was still very hungry.  For snack, instead of dog biscuits, I got a couple of carrots.  Not funny.  Carrots are for rabbits; not for dogs.  After I ate the carrots, and begged for more, I got an ice cube.  Yippee.

I figure that, with this extreme weight loss regime, I will have reached my goal weight in about a week.  I will keep you posted.  In the meantime, I’m gonna bite the next stranger that calls me fat….

BODY SHAMING!

I have to tell you, my walks to the park have been a little less delightful lately due to the unkind comments and observations of many of the humans I have encountered.  While these people stop to talk to me, and to pet me, they feel compelled to comment on my physique.  They say tactful things like “she’s SO fat!”, or “what a chubster”, or “she’s a real heavy-weight!”  One Chines couple even managed to get their insults across in spite of the fact they didn’t speak English — they simply gestured as to how wide I was an giggled.

First of all, I’m not fat; I’m stocky.  Some would say “thick.”  I am an English Bulldog, people.  This is how I was bred to be.  If you look up my breed online, a female Bulldog should be 12-18 inches tall and 40-50 lbs.  I am approximately 17 inches tall and 45 pounds.  I have broad shoulders, an expansive chest, and wrinkles.  But my waist and belly are flat.  I am very muscular.  I have to admit I am not very “feminine” by human standards.  Even when I wear frilly dresses, like the one in this picture, I kind of look like a guy.  But it is who I am.

Even if you think I am fat or not your idea of a lady, I am not sure why you think it’s OK to voice that opinion upon greeting me.  Nobody says my Greyhound buddies are “so skinny” or that their legs are “twiggy” or comments on the fact you can see their ribs.  Who decided that emaciated was beautiful and that muscular was not?  I know, the fashion industry, the media, society…. But why can’t people think for themselves?  I am who God made me to be.  I am strong, and proud, and confident, and SEXY!  And if you don’t think so, keep your opinion to yourself!

 

 

InDOGuration

There is a lot of chatter going on at the park and the coffee shop about the “InDOGuration” coming up in a few days.  Nobody is talking about much else.  Everyone seems pretty passionate about this event.  Some people are excited and others seem to be mad about it.  I am trying to figure this out.  So, it seems whenever there is a new President, a whole bunch of dogs come to Washington.  They have to bring their owners, too, because most dogs can’t drive and aren’t allowed on the airplane unless they get registered as a service animal.  It’s apparently not that hard, though, because I heard about a turkey and a goose riding on the airplane because they were there for emotional support.  Nonetheless, the owner still had to come along.  It’s kind of ridiculous, but that’s the way it is.

Dogs and their people are starting to arrive in town already.  Hotels are booked and the prices have tripled.  I saw on TV last night that the luxury suite at a hotel near the White House, with his and her bathrooms, cost $85,000 a night!  I hope, at that price, the dog gets her own bed, with a goose down comforter that she is allowed to shred.  My brother’s friend is staying at our house because he is an unpaid intern here to cover the events and can’t afford a fancy hotel.  I think it’s great:  he has really nice leather shoes that I am waiting to get a chance to steal.

There are also going to be several balls.  Some guy at the park said there were going to only be three balls for President Trump.  I think that’s pretty shameful, and probably “fake news”.  This guy claims to be super rich and a HUGE success; surely he can afford to buy more than 3 balls.  I, myself, have around 6 balls.  3 or them even still squeak.  It could be total chaos if thousands of dogs come to welcome this guy and they are all fighting over 3 balls.  I’m just saying…

There is also going to be a parade.  I really like parades.  There are a bunch of kids with loud instruments and white flappy things on their shoes for me to chase.  I also think I would like to chase a couple of clowns.  I also hope the guys with the little felt hats are there riding their tiny tiny motorcycles or cars.  I could totally jump on top of one of them and catch a ride!

The other big event is going to be on Saturday.  Apparently, thousands, or hundreds of thousands of women are coming to march.  I think they know they are going to miss the InDOGuration, but don’t really care.  In fact, I think they are coming because they are NOT happy about the new President.  I think it has something to do with a cat…  Anyway, all these women are going to go together on a really long walk through Washington.  That sounds just like my kind of thing — lots of women walking and talking and being supportive of the sisterhood!  For some reason, they want us all to wear pantsuits.  I don’t really look good in pants.  I think I will wear my Elsa dress instead.