The most horrible dog parents e-v-e-r

Note the look of desperation...

Zoee is on a diet. This is a highly contentious point in our household. Zoee has always been ridiculously motivated by f-o-o-d and t-r-e-a-ts and d-i-n-n-e-r that we have taken to spelling out things despite the fact that we have NO small children in our house. Because of this, our beautiful dark chocolate brown Labrador retriever quickly turned into a king-sized candy bar. About three weeks ago Zoee needed to visit the vet, and it was quickly discovered that my poor dog had a staph infection. In her bits. Seriously. This happened. It was due to, as the vet so delicately put it, the overabundance of chubbiness in her belly region. As penance for my terrible dog parenting, I am now required to swab her nethers with what amounts to medicated wet naps.

Oh. My. God. Really? Really.

I also have to put the dog on a diet. I cannot even tell you how much more painful this realization was for me than having to rub down my dog's personal area with swabs. Zoee looks at me with those big dark eyes and furrowed eyebrows as I munch on my delicious dinner and asks silently, "Why do you hate me so?" I don't! I don't! Alas, if only she spoke English.

Only 7 more pounds to go, then she can have treats again. One would argue that is what got us here in the first place, but we'll just have to cross that bridge when the big happy tails get us there.