Ummm, those of you with dogs have probably heard of the Lab's remarkable love affair with food. I just thought that my little guy, who is not that little anymore, was hungry because he is growing. 
He had the svelte look of a puppy with good conditioning, you know, with the nipped in sides and the feel of the rib cage under his lavish (room to grow) skin. So, here is the story...
I had to run errands yesterday morning, which included a stop at Pet Food Express, one of the two pet stores in town. We started feeding his majesty this high end puppy food because he was starting to show signs of dandruff that was turning out to be a corn allergy. Ok, fine. I had seen this with Sasha/AKA The Wildebeest, or Wilda for short and thought, ok...I am not feeding children at home, I can turn into one of those people who takes good care of their pets food...lots of lamb and veggies and brown rice, you know the stuff...not a Mad Cow disease morsel in the bunch. Fine. I finish the errands, which include a trip in to Orinda to top off my mom's supplies for the time that I am away and drag my stuff back home in the BAV. The bag of dogfood is in a fancy GIGANTIC 35 pound sturdy bag that takes me my kitchen shears to get into . I flopped that thing on the floor in front of the "dog cabinet" (when we redid the kitchen, the pantry got separate areas for Dog Food and Cat Food and believe me, the dogs know which one belongs to them...) The morning progressed and I probably got sidelined when putting the mail out, which often happens...oh, this needs water and oh, let me pick this weed and Oh, should I mulch this before the weather turns hot... Stuff like that. Do you see where this is going? Do you? Are you like a boisterous audience at a B-grade horror movie, shouting...I know what is going to happen, get in there, girrrrlllllllll! Yeah, well shut up. I am just that dumb. I never saw it coming, not even in the back of my mind. I go merrily into the house and there he is, wiggling his whole body, looking guilty as hell. Don't worry, SHE who thought that this new food was so-so (to my face) was nearby, egging him on. Yeah, can you see it? A bag with a hole the size of that head up there with who knows how much purloined from it, sat in the same position I left it in...wounded. Oh lord. I try to muscle this wounded thing into position to pour some of its contents into the covered tub that is the storage for about half of this thing. See what is coming? There is some spillage...two dogs become a blur of black lip smacking theives, dogs that have been starved into mere waif condition and sucking up the spoils from the floor. STOP! sez I. I push and cajole and cover and close and all is well. No problem, just a little inpromptu snacking. Fast forward to dinner time. These two innocent creatures have been going about life in a normal manner but something has happened to Tank. He looks different...he has the distinct shape of a POT BELLY PIG. Oh no! He must have eaten WAY more than I thought and now that he has had water all day, that kibble has doubled in size (did he turn down dinner? No way!) It was looking at something volatile...a ripe watermelon. Just the feeling of dread was creeping in. Look at that puppy! He looks like he is going to explode. Uh Huh. Do you remember the movie called Stand By Me? where one of the kids is telling the story about Lard Ass and the Pie Eating Contest. Yeah, you know the scene where there is this noise that comes from the bowels of the earth, a rumbling and thennnnn projectile vomiting of blueberries everywhere? Ok, got that picture? Now, think dog food...rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRalph! (Helle, that is slang for vomit) Not once in a puddle 6 inches by 12 inches but TWICE! Yeah! No more pot belly pig! Boy, was he embarrassed and worried. He probably thought that this was tantamount to pooping on the rug and so there was no consoling him. All that I can say is...THANK DOG FOR NATURE'S MIRACLE, the enzyme cleaner. Like that story? Ready for more?
So, last night, I am doing my usual sleepless burst into flames/freezing repertoire until Sasha roars into the kitchen, alerting me to an invasion, either of the deck (Dambi) or kitchen by a cat OR Rocky Raccoon. I opt for number two from last night because she lost some fur in the battle. Good dog, follow me back to bed. Again a little while later. Persistent critter using the cat flap! (distubance number three was The Husband's turn to deal with...The Pot Belly pig purging the last of his booty...digested booty...oh, nevermind). We settle in and try to get some rest. Just before dawn the din begins again. I throw myself out of bed and follow her in to the kitchen, never seeing the culpret but find more of her hair on the floor and also a peach on the floor...no self respecting cat is going to risk three dog maulings for a freakin' peach! There you have it. Can you understand why The Husband and I were snapping at one another this morning? Yes, amazing but true...
Here are my friends. 

Oh, sure, NOW they sleep.