A 3M Post-It Note. Picture not to scale. The post-it is actually 1″ x 2″, dwarfed by the two-foot high, 45-quart, air-tight, dog food storage container which sits underneath it. But, the Post-it punches above its weight class.
3 Words + a few symbols = Irritation.
She doesn’t think I will give him the right dosage.
She thinks I’ll overfeed him. You’re cutting his life short by giving him all these snacks.
3/4 C (Dog Food) + H20 (Water) + 1/4 C Green Beans (to help him with his digestion).
Mom and Eric are on a road trip for the weekend to see family. Rachel is in the city with Friends.
Dad and Man’s Best Friend Zeke are Home Alone.
Back to the Post-Its.
I walk out of the pantry.
And there’s another one.
On the cupboard above Zeke’s Dog Dish and Water Bowl.
This time a 2×2 Post-It flashing READ ME, READ ME:
Breakfast/Dinner 3/4 C dog food +
Some Water To Mix +
handful of gr. beans +
Change drinking water each meal
Many more words. Much more Irritation. Do I need step by step instructions to feed the dog? Not once, but twice? I grab the post-its and throw them into the trash can. Here, talk to the hand.
I grab the measuring cup. Fill his dish with a 1 heaping cup of dog food, 1.5 handfuls of beans, and sprinkle it with water.
Go for it Zeke. Live a little.
I run to the store. Make a bee-line to the meat counter, and grin after finding a bone as big as my shin. A Zeke treat after our morning run. I grab two pints of gelato and 1 pint of Ben & Jerry’s and head home.
For lunch, we share my peanut butter sandwich, cold pizza and gelato.
For dinner, we repeat Breakfast portions. While Dad orders in Thai food.
Roll forward to Sunday morning.
3/4 cup of Dog Food.
1/4 cup Green Beans.
Splash of H2O.
4 Fried Chicken Dumplings.
2 heaping tablespoons of Pad Thai.
Then, I step back and listen.
Zeke’s collar is bangin’ on his dog dish.
He’s slurping it down like it was his last meal.
He finishes up.
Then laps up some water.
He ambles over to me, and says: Now, That, Dad, was some fine fixins. And I promise, I won’t tell Mom.
Zeke and I are sitting on the back porch.
He’s watching the birds peck away on the feeders.
I notice an ominous mound about five yards out. Steaming. And another to the right of it.
Zeke, did you do that?
He drops his head in shame and looks away.
Mom needs to get home to clean up the mess.
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