My dogs, unlike just about everyone else I know, always lose weight over Xmas.
As the iron-fisted routine of the working week relaxes and then collapses, walks start later in the day, breakfast slides into brunch, which means that they either do not eat it, or eat only dinner. I am home more than not – and if I go out, it is frequently to somewhere I can take them. Life is fun.
This morning, after a weird extension last week to my time away from caused by a funeral on Wednesday and a public holiday on a Thursday which prompted me to take the Friday off, I was back to work with a bump today.
And Lucy knew it. The minute the alarm went off her body language was of despondency and resignation, coupled with a it of excitement about going for an early morning walk.
Unbelievably, it was raining. It had started raining last night, which was good as it provided a bit of relief from the humidity, but bad as it made everything, including me, wet. I had decided to take a chance that the very fine drizzle would be maintained in the 45 min window, during which I would be out walking the dogs to the park, around the park and back home.
Almost immediately the rain increased in intensity and my idea about not having to wear a jacket meant that my T Shirt was instantly rendered soaking and transparent.
I cooked my breakfast omelette on my return and packed my bag for work and then began the ritual which will ensure that the dogs will regain the weight that they have lost over January. I put a couple of strips of duck jerky down, then a chicken treat for Archie and a lamb one for Lucy. I then hid some mini-marrowbone biscuits for both of then, some liver treats for Archie and the treat ball was placed in the middle of the floor, too. It has tiny pieces of liver treat that Archie will eat, tiny pieces of dog chocolate that Lucy will eat, and tiny pieces of chicken sticks that both will eat.
Only Lucy knows how to make the ball work. She will push the ball around with her nose until treats falll out of the tiny hole in its top.
Archie will follow Lucy and Hoover up anything that Lucy does not want to eat.
Lucy ate nothing as I did all this, just lay on the couch and watched the routine that she knows so well and that told her I was going to work. She let out a loud sigh.
Archie, meanwhile was at the garden fence. It had been raining, so that meant there was a chance that Mr Paterson, the frog was back. He was in full patrol mode.
2017, here we come.