Dog-gone it

Every once in awhile, I feel a little bit guilty over the amount of money we spend on our dog. We buy her good food, Chad gets her treats and toys, and she's torn up her share of things around here we've had to replace.

Yesterday afternoon I went to our local pet food store, which I love, to buy a bag of Lucy's dog food. It takes her about six weeks to go through a bag, so even though it's a little pricey, it's not something we get often. In front of me at the store was a woman stocking up on all sorts of food -- wet, dry, cat, dog...it took up pretty much the whole counter. I wasn't paying much attention until I heard her say that she had several dogs--one being a bull mastiff--at least one cat (see, I told you I wasn't paying attention) and that the food would last about a month. Then the cashier pronounced her total: "That will be three-hundred-thirty-seven-dollars-and-sixty-eight cents."

Truly, I about died.

I was so relieved at the affordability of my purchase, in comparison, I almost bought Lucy a bone to go with it. But I decided my company for the afternoon was treat enough for her, so I practically skipped to the car with my 40 pounds of dog food and headed home.