Libby is on a diet. The vet gently suggested that she would live 2 years longer if she weren’t so damned fat. Here’s the deal… every single time I get a cup of coffee, Libby gets a treat. I drink a LOT of coffee. When I leave and come home, she gets another treat. She knows that if I’m working and she tries to get in my lap (she thinks she’s a Chihuahua), if she bats those big browns, she gets another treat. Libby knows the words, Taco Bell and McDonalds. She also knows how to spell Taco Bell now. Seriously.
Libby is fat because she has bad parents. Sort of like the whole ‘clean your plate’ thing. She really doesn’t care much about getting her girlish figure back. She believes me when I tell her she’s sexy.
Libby was working on her tan today. I caught this shot as she was most likely dreaming of a double beef burrito supreme.