Sure, he needs to slim down a bit, but this is some kind of crazy crash diet.
Meanwhile, he vomits. He drinks a ton of water in one go and then spews out a bit of it. Sarah thinks he might have a water disorder because his previous parent denied him a filled bowl. Leave it to me to adopt a dog with a drinking problem.
The vast amounts of water intake may be an indication of diabetes, so he's had a blood test. Also, I'm supposed to bring in a sample of his urine. They recommend using a ladle. You'll never want to eat soup at my house again.
Until we know what's going on, we're supposed to feed him any kind of bland, non-greasy food he'll eat. Tonight for dinner he had a bit o' bread.
In other news: This is day two of weaning Buckaroo from his bed time milky drinking and the first step toward complete night weaning. So far it's been a beautiful thing, except that I don't get to listen to the podcasts or books on cd anymore. I will miss the stories, but at least now I don't have to worry that Buckaroo's going to call some little girl a saumensch on the playground.
Sweet Potato will attend her first dance on Friday night. She's playing it cool, but at least she's going!
R sweet-talked a guy at church who builds post and beam homes to come and have a look-see at our project by the lake, but-- and I find this fascinating-- the guy is totally booked until September! Economy Shnonomy.
Tomorrow is supposed to be roasty toasty (well, you know, 55) so Buckaroo and I are heading down to the muddy playground. Maybe we'll see ya there!