We have a Branch Dinner coming at the Legion. Those of you who’ve been keeping track of this blog will know that we’ve been walking Dora for a few months. A little backstory – she was an overweight miniature dachshund, on whom I blamed my excess pounds when we stood on the bathroom scales together. She was overweight but not to the extent of carrying a full-sized woman. Anywho, she was a big girl. Since we started with the daily walk, she’s lost two kilos. As have I. It’s more noticeable on her.

Dammit.

So, with the dinner coming, Aimée and I have been trying to think of something to do for her owner. Because it’s not easy. I’ve been there myself. Dear little Doobie was the size of a small house before I learnt to stop giving him nibbles from my plate. He lost weight. I suddenly put it on. It’s the circle of life.

At the time of writing, we almost have a plan. Depending on time and menu choices, we’ll bring Dora’s owner to the dinner. It should be a good night. There’s usually a toast or two, and, given that there’ll be a new caterer doing the biz, there’s a chance the old guard of the Legion won’t say ‘Amen’ and go straight for the salt and pepper. They always used to. It drove me to distraction. If you can’t trust a chef to season correctly, what makes you think it’s not cat food you’re eating? Anywho, we’ve given up the Whiskas and the new chap probably knows what he’s doing. I’m hopeful.