I took Maggie to the vet for her annual poking and prodding. She was not a happy camper, until she got up on the table, and the vet and the tech loved on her. If there is a limit to the amount of affection Maggie can tolerate, I have yet to find it, and they didn’t find it either. They exclaimed over how sleek and healthy she is. I explained how the other vet on staff shamed me into putting the cats on a diet. (They came into my custody when they were 8 and 9 years old, after a lifetime of free choice dry food – I just continued that regimen until I had two matching black puddles of serious poundage.) They oooh’d and aaah’d and took pictures. They asked me to send them “before” pictures, so they can encourage others to be mindful of their pets’ weight.
|June, 2010 – 19 pounds||Just the other day – 11 pounds|
From there, we stopped off at a self-service farm stand to pick up strawberries and rhubarb. This is in case the cheesecake didn’t go over well. After a concerted quality control effort, Kevin reports that the cheesecake meets his stringent standards. Somehow half the cheesecake is gone. Oh, maybe that’s because I helped with the quality control. You know, for a girl who just ran 14 miles the other day, I seem to be a smidgeon pudgier than I want to be. I wonder why? Maybe Maggie can teach me a few lessons. Except I really don’t want to eat meat from a can.
Then what. Oh! We went out to listen to our favorite local band, whose music you can listen to here, or here.
It’s bedtime. Tomorrow: adventures with a moving truck, construction debris, the dump, and setting up camp in that nice house you might want to buy – the one with the sweet views.