Dog Food

Yesterday I was at Walmart buying a large bag of dog food for Mol, Brod and Lily and was in the checkout line when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

What did she think I had? An elephant?

I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I was starting the Dog Food diet, again. I added that I probably shouldn't, because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with kibble and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so it works well and I had decided to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked if I had ended up in intensive care because the dog food had poisoned me. I told her no, I had stepped off a curb to sniff an Irish Setter's ass and a car hit us both.

I cannot shop at Walmart anymore.