he ain't heavy, he's my dachshund

The power of observation. There are a lot of things in this world that I see, but don't really notice. Too many things for my tiny brain to process. And so I go about, assuming that most things are the way I want or expect them to be.

Uncle Ed's memorial service opened my eyes to aspects of my uncle's life that I never experienced, that I never knew. I questioned whether or not I should feel remorse about that, til I realized how much we seemed to have in common. Beneath the hard candy shrouds of silence we both kept around us when we occasionally were in each other's company were the tootsie roll centers that we freely shared with others in our life. Something, I would guess, we both would not have expected of each other.

I came home to face another reality that didn't quite fit into my everyday expectations about life. Boy, I've thought lately when I pick him up to take him up and down the stairs, did tiny chumley just drink a lot of water? And what's up with chumley buggin me after his meals, like he wants more food? And how'd his neck get so bunchy lookin? And then yesterday morning I finally see this.

Yep, a dimple, caused by plumpy goodness on either side of his tushie. Cold hard evidence that tiny chumley had been happily feasting from accidental over-feeding while I was gone. A extra scoop of food per day for his morning tummy acid fix, that otherwise should have been deducted from little kielbasa's midmorning meal had I remembered to tell Big Boyfriend about it. Translating into two pounds of pure flubbery energy, conveniently stored in his badonkadonk.

I get the feeling Tiny Chumley's gonna be sorely disappointed that his world isn't going to be as he expects it for the next few weeks. A bit less food, more exercise. No rawhide. Tough times for a little doggie, but so worth it come swimsuit season.