It started as just a VIP (Very Important Pup) lounge. Happy would see that we were preparing her meal, so she would proceed to march down the hall to the bedroom and lay on her (or Sky's) bed (well, double-layered bed, to be exact) and wait for her meal to be delivered on a silver platter.
Well, things have progressed a bit. She no longer wants to eat in the VIP lounge - in fact she refuses. Spoil-the-shit-out-of-Happy is in extra innings now. No holds barred. Tube meat, tub meat, beefy sticks, deli meat, salmon, French toast, grilled turkey and cheese sandwiches, Good Times burgers, and ice cream with natural peanut butter ("it drizzles better", says my Sweetpea) - these are just the tip of the spoiling iceberg for our old lady baby.
Our meat budget is a little out of control right now. Not to mention, at least half of our entire grocery bill is dedicated to one skinny, picky, elderly, spoiled mutt. Did I tell you that she prefers the block cheese from Ireland?
At 16, I guess she can call the shots. After all, she outlived Betty White by a good dozen dog years.
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