I don’t make New Year’s resolutions for myself—just for everyone else. Starting from the ground up, I begin with Nutty and Bosco, the two nearest the ground. Trouble is, I think they’re making some resolutions, too. The first indication surrounds food service here at Chez Poodle.
Cooking is not my thing (i.e., “Do you really want the canned corn heated?”). But Nutmeg has become resistant to getting out of her bed beneath the kitchen table for dinner, so I’ve had to become more clever about inducing her to eat—like putting her food right next to Bosco’s which he inhales in 10 seconds.
Expecting her to leave bed a second time for dessert borders on delusional. Despite my aversion to food preparation, they do get dessert because, fortunately for them, Dreyer’s vanilla ice cream doesn’t require cooking. I put the bowl three inches from her bed. She doesn’t budge. I push it up next to the bed and her tongue slithers over the edge but doesn’t quite reach the bowl. I’ve allocated only 15 minutes for dessert service, so I pick the darned bowl up, put it in her bed, and call it a night.
When would I ever find time to implement New Year’s resolutions for myself?