Two week checkpoint
|Someone needs to clean this mirror (ignore my terrible leg position, I was trying to get him to say cheese for the camera)|
and chewing on your bit like an overgrown dog.
Post-losing a few more pounds, you'll be able to get off your god-forsaken diet,
and not act like you've never been fed before,
digging your nose through the trash.
Someday you won't be scared of the dark,
your own reflection,
and the coyotes that rustle through the grass and howl at night.
Okay, it's fine to be nervous at the coyotes,
but not the birds that flit through the arena.
Someday you'll start paying attention to the little girls who gush over you,
instead of ignoring them for the men who you think are coming to feed you.
A hint: little girls are always carrying treats and candies.
You'll learn to stop getting poop all over your spiffy new blanket,
and ruining every single new thing that I buy you.
This spring, you'll shed your winter sweater, grow sleek and shiny, just in time to sweat buckets
in the summertime.
And we'll finally cut your hair.
Someday I'll talk about you less,