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Salvy's Diet


 "I see Salvy has put on his own COVID FIFTEEN."

These were among the sitter's first words when she visited on Friday. 

I'm really to blame. I'm uninterested in housework, so after Josh throws his lunch all over the floor, I don't reach for the Hoover. I just reach for Salvy. Salvy and Josh are like the symbiotic pairs you study in high school, the bird/crocodile buddies who look after each other. Josh feeds Salvy; Salvy does the cleaning. 

A part of me thinks Salvy could just have a few "tubby years" -- where we all don't worry about dieting -- and Josh will learn not to throw his food around (eventually). And then an ideal canine weight can be achieved.

But maybe I give in too easily.

For curious minds: Salvy himself seems unconcerned about the weight gain. If it's hot outside, Salvy will plop his belly on the cool surface of the tub, and he'll stay there for many hours. He won't confine himself to solids; milk and bacon-grease also get his attention, if they end up on the floor. He stalks; he waits. He will pounce, lunge, gnaw. He is outspoken only when he thinks that I'm forgetting about dinner....
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