We were gone for one day. I set out the bin o' food for Belle, filling it half-way with Iams kibble. Mary's son, Paul, home from college for a few days, agreed to swing by and feed Cuddles, the misnamed dog. When we got back this morning, the bin o' food was empty.
I studied Belle. She didn't look half-a-bin heavier, and it didn't seem likely that she'd pass the time reenacting the egg-eating scene from Cool Hand Luke. When we returned from our week-long honeymoon this summer, the bin o' food was still a bin o' food, nearly half full.
The mystery's solution: Cuddles spent the week in a kennel during our honeymoon. Cuddles, who will eat anything that can fit down her gullet without fighting its way back out, stayed home with Belle this time around.
I offer this story to prove that you haven't missed much during my several week sabbatical from the blog. Life has mumbled along as it usually does, with a few grumbles as I satisfy deadlines.