Wednesday, February 24, 2010

It's not my fault

It's not my fault that I am pleasingly plump, a well rounded individual. Mother has tried to reduce my grain, although if she takes out too much, I refuse to eat my suppies. She has cut back on my good hay, and I have mostly just first cutting stuff to keep me through the night, but that's OK, because there is good hay out in the field all day long. I eat, eat, eat... nap on the hay, wake up, eat, eat, ooh, water trough, eat eat...

And I run around a lot in the field, at least when the snow is on the ground. She doesn't exercise me really anymore, because of my joint, so it's not MY fault.

Mother was poking me along the side tonight. She says she can't feel any ribs... well, that's all muscle!

I do look handsome, but Mother says I would feel better if I lost a few pounds or 70. Only if I can lose weight while still eating all I want. But she deworms me regularly, and the vet did my tooth a weekend or two ago, so...

I'll just keep eating. She'll get over it.

And surely three Mrs. Pastures cookies a night isn't enough to tip the scale...


  1. CJ told the communicator that he wanted treats for his diet, and nothing else. :) It's just not healthy, dear.

    BTW, I tagged you.

  2. I had a nice lady come out that took the pictures in my head and told Mother what they were, mostly. I don't think she understood quite everything I was telling her.

    We didn't discuss cookies, though...

    The tag isn't like one of those ear things I saw the cows wear? I wouldn't like one of those...

  3. No worries, dear. This is a tag that doesn't hurt at all.

    I'm surprised you didn't show her pictures of cookes. Oodles and oodles and bushels and bushels of cookies. Were you feeling okay that day?


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