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The Eating Habits of a Gremlin

I am still processing photos. I am slow. This is because: 1// I want to have the Sunlight Experience that will not kill me like it will in Las Vegas; 2// I have the attention span of a flee; 3// over 600 photos! I'm not kidding!; and 4// I'm shooting a lot of portraits for a project at work (see: points three and four here) and there's a ton of those to wade through as well.

Until I can get all of those shots up, and since my coworker is sure I cannot stop talking about my stupid dog already, let's talk about my stupid dog.

While Steve and I were off cavorting in Gay City, California and Sin City, Nevada, Lacey took a vacation at John and Heidi's house.

Lacey hates and loves their house, because while there are always three million screaming children that want to chase her and pick her up and put her in doll clothes and yippy dogs that have tried to pick fights with her, the abundance of food on the floor and the large back yard make up for it.

And also she gets to drink beer.

Actually, now that I'm thinking this through, maybe driving four hours to my mom's house for dogsitting would be a much better plan the next time I go out of town.

I did notice pretty quickly that she came home with some bling and a new nickname, proving that the partying had been heavy:

When we all got home, she laid down on the bed and would not get up for anything. She's used to napping the 8 hours I'm at work every day, and then she needs a nap or two in during the evening, plus a full night of beauty sleep.

I doubt she got that much sleep at John's what with all of the screaming kids and inches of back yard to sniff and neighbor dogs to bark at.

I put food in her bowl, but she didn't even want to think about food. The food was still there the next morning, and she wouldn't touch it for dinner or even before bed the next day.

I could tell she was hungry and she kept asking for food, but she wouldn't touch the food in her dish. I chalked it up to her having too much beer and pizza at John's, and I told her if she didn't eat the food I gave her then she will starve. Because I am mean like that.

But then she woke me at 4am by vomiting bile all over the carpet, just inches from the linoleum. Schnauzers do this when their stomachs have been empty for too long. And Valette gets grumpy when the sound of retching interrupts a dream.

So the next morning I threw out her food and made a huge show of putting new food into her bowl, oooh yummy breakfast! Foood! Yuuum! and made myself feel like the biggest retard for the huge show about a little scoop of dry dog food.

She put her head down and grabbed a piece of food and I raised my arms in triumph. I have outsmarted a tiny dog! My mental capacities are twice what hers are!

But then her new name tag hit the side of her metal bowl and made a horribly loud CLANG! She jumped back, looked at me, at the food, at me, and whined.

The dog is ascared of the sound her collar makes on her dish.
But her new tag is so cute.
So I caved.

She is now eating out of a plastic bowl.

Maybe I should try her on the pizza and beer diet, because she lost a bit of weight while I was gone. Maybe I should try the pizza and beer diet for myself.