Today was my mom's birthday and I made her these cupcakes. I made her wait while I snapped about fifty shots of the cupcaks of which only two qualified as decent. That is how I roll. Mina was perplexed by all the maneuvering of these delicious smelling edible items, the ones she felt strongly belonged in her belly. She followed me from spot to spot as I found the right location for the cupcake shoot.
Celeste was even less subtle, drooling and tripping me up in her attempts at cupcake theft. She stared and panted and stared and panted, then body slammed Mina out of her way for a better view of the delectable goods.
AND THEN WE ATE THE CUPCAKES AND GAVE NONE TO THE DOGS.
Eating is always upsetting to Mina and Celeste, so sure are they that all the commotion in the kitchen, all that preparation, it is all for them, for their sustenance. And yet.
Which reminds me of when I first brought Mina home. She weighed 23 lbs and should have weighed 40. Concerned about her weight, I asked my veterinarian his thoughts on feeding amount and schedule. Oh, he said, just feed her however much she wants. That same evening, I came home to my sweet, cross-eyed, malnourished, patchy-eyed pit bull and said, tonight, you my dear pit bull, shall eat like the queen you are.
I gave her a cup. She scarfed it up. Two cups. Three. Four. Five. Six. No sign of Mina feeling satiated. Seven. A pudge started to appear along her waistline. Eight. A strange groaning sound coming from her innards. Nine. Nothing could stop her now, Mina was on top of the world, though it soon might be crushed beneath her widening belly. I stopped her then and she has never forgiven me for that.