Aug. 23, from Louie, Day 84

Gosh darn it, Pops!

You ‘n’ Mom gotta get offa my case!

I am not FAT!!!!!


OK, OK, OK, I’m not the skinny raggedy dude you brought home five years ago, but that don’t mean I’m a chubby butt.

I am a mature dog, ‘n’ I have a manly profile most becomin’ of my years. My chest is broad ‘n’ deep, my thighs is churnin’ pistons ‘n’ my belly is full, ‘n’ I AM NOT FAT!!!!

Oh, I heard Mom gasp when I tipped the evil vet’s scale at 79 pounds. Well, Mom, I got news for you. Grain-free biscuits don’t mean CALORIE-free. So there.

‘Sides, a 60-pound weaklin’ don’t take on Rockies ‘n’ win.

Chicken, chicken, chicken!!!!!!

Chicken, chicken, chicken!!!!!!

A tough guy like me needs solid poundage to fight off orcs ‘n’ other aliens threatenin’ the home front (‘n’ Mom’s well-bein’ in YOUR absence, I might add). A tough guy like me can’t stare down smoke-belchin’ FirstEnergy machinery without some girth. So just knock off this talk about diets.

‘N’ as for this exercise regimen Mom’s suddenly cooked up for me — well, you guys reap what you sow. ‘Cuz if I’m hikin’ my fool head off every day, then that only INCREASES my appetite, ‘n’ I’m not gonna leave EITHER of you alone until I get more meat!!!!

OK, OK, OK, when my nether regions was chafin’ so bad, I got kinda lazy. I admit that. But walkin’ hurt.

Only now that things is gettin’ better, I think Mom is goin’ a tad overboard. This mornin’ she took me to Schumacher, ‘n’ made me hike the whole mountainous loop. ‘N’ this afternoon, when we usually do just a double, she made it a quadruple!!!! ‘N’ tonight, our leisurely evenin’ stroll turned into two miles on the Towpath.

That is just way wrong, Pops. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay wrong. (“Oh, quit your gripin’, Louie. I’m walkin’ every single one o’ them miles with you.” ” ‘Cept you’re the one with the chubby butt.” “Am not!” “Are, too!” “Am not!” “Are, too!” )

Mom’s threatenin’ to take me to the Gorge in the mornin’ to climb them killer rocks, ‘n’ I just might haveta stage a rebellion. ‘cuz if I let her get away with that, then the next thing you know, we’ll be doin’ the Buckeye Trail ‘n’ we both know when Mom does the Buckeye Trail, she gets so wore out, I gotta strap her to my back ‘n’ carry her back to Mr. Rav. ‘N’ that’s just more’n any dog oughta haveta bear.

Fortunately, Mom hasn’t gotten too serious about the diet threats yet, ‘n’ tonight we had PICKIN’ CHICKEN!!!!

But she says it’s the last one we’re gonna have until you get home.

‘N’ that’s not right, Pops, just not right.

‘CUZ I’M NOT FAT!!!!!!

Your skinny at heart,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie: There is only one word to describe it. Stupendous! Really, outstanding just doesn’t do it justice. Wonderful — even wunnerful — is woefully inadequate. Tremendous would simply be a cliche. Memorable or magnificent get close, but not quite. Superb might due. But, finally, I have to settle on STUPENDOUS! Lou, I’ve seen that look in your eyes so many times. A piece of pickin’ chicken is about the only thing that produces that look in your eyes, Lou. It’s a look of pure bliss — and I look forward to seeing it soon, in person. What a stupendous photo!!!

p.s. Lou, you are not fat. You are pleasantly plump, as a mature dog such as yourself deserves to be, after all those years of guardin’ the homefront while I’ve been away. Soon, though, we’re going to ratchet up the exercise level — more for my benefit than yours.
Published in: on August 23, 2013 at 9:15 pm  Leave a Comment  

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