| Dogini's Way: The notes of a dog therapist | |||||||||||||||||
| Is your journey like this: Starting small, ending big? | |||||||||||||||||
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I started off just
right, like the picture on the left. Now I enjoy a snack every so often.
So you can see what has happened to me as a result. This is apparently
one problem that is resistant to psychotherapy, even the dog variety.
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| When you can't even fit into your collar... | |||||||||||||||||
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Haroldi's daughter, Ninotchka, caught me
off guard in this very unflattering pose. I had just found a dead fish
by the lake and buried its remains for safe keeping.
I know that she loved me very much, as I did her, and she even put this adorable picture on her greeting cards. I do enjoy a cool drink and ![]() |
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| a late night snack... | |||||||||||||||||
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My humans think that late-nite snacking
is a problem. For me, it's just fine and I also like street food as a supplement
to my own dry boring stuff.
I know a wide spray of people that are happy to feed me. Even the evening door man in New York City gives me 2 dog biscuits every time I go out. (I let him know if he's short one.) For the pizza at the left I relied on a quick grab in the street. Then I held on so no one grabbed it from me. My humans should worry more about their own diets and
less about mine (particularly Robertina).
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