The Family has a dog. The Family has an old dog. The Family has a big-boned dog. The Family has a lazy dog.
The Family has an old, fat, lazy dog.
The Dog* is a 10 year-old Black and Tan Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. She is also a lazy little chunker. In her defense, she has a bum heart but in all honesty, she has been lazy since the day after she outgrew the term “puppy.”
We all have our weaknesses.
As good dog owners, we give The Dog her heart meds and feed her a low-calorie diet. Given that I am not going to make her salads twice daily, this means a fish-based kibble.
Here’s the thing about old dogs that eat fish food: they have foul breath. “Unpleasant” doesn’t begin to describe the odor. I am talking about genuinely smelly air escaping that darling, furry face with every exhale.
The Kidling is not unaware of The Dog’s exhalation affliction. She had the misfortune of being downwind of The Dog one recent day, which I became aware of due to the sudden, seemingly unprovoked screwing up of those darling Kidling facial features.
“Mom, what’s haleytosis?” she asked.
I told her it was clearly exactly what she thought it was (confidential to readers: No, I do not read her the dictionary in lieu of bedtime stories. I have no idea why she knows this word).
“Grody!” she exclaimed. “It’s grossin’ me out. I wish she would close her mouth!”
So do I, but since she won’t, I’m going to kiss that smelly little old dog face. Love is not only blind, but lacking in another sense as well.
* Not her real name.