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Our dog, Sophie, suffers from systemic yeast and is allergic to everything under the sun. I do not exaggerate here! A friend visited recently and offered her a wee bit of cheese. Before I could say no, Sophie being no fool, inhaled it. The next day her poor eyes puffed up so badly she could barely see out of them! So, last weekend I sent her to the kennel with a bag and strict instructions that she could eat nothing if it wasn’t in the bag. In fact, it was a little sad, really, all my obsessing. I packaged and labeled every item in a ziplock baggie—every meal, every medication had my panicky notes written in permanent marker. The underlying message being: I don’t care how cute she is—don’t you dare give her a treat! I’ll know if you do.

While I’m not one of those dog owners who dresses her pup up in matching clothes (ok, I would be, but she rolls her eyes at me when I try and then I feel foolish!), I have cause to worry about her health. All weekend long I worried. Every dog I saw made me stop and wonder how my over-indulged pooch was fairing. The yeast is being treated, but we’re a long way from being cured. And the last thing I needed was for Sophie to have a set-back in the kennel because someone gave her a tabu food. It’s bad enough that she tears her skin to pieces when she’s anxious!

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Turns out, I needn’t have worried. Hammond Kennels is more like a Puppy Spa! She got lots of attention and had her own little space. I suspect she spent the whole time we were away barking and running, because she was exhausted when she came home. Sophie got quite accustomed to having the equivalency of a doggie door—she roamed at will. Four days of spa vacation and she’s a bit spoiled. Which means that she’s spent the past few days at home doing this delightful little dance and howling routine whenever she feels the urge to go outside and play. At first, I thought it was a potty run, so I indulged it—only to discover that in reality, she just wanted outside. You know, to sniff grass and chomp at flying bugs and then to curl up in her enormous bed on our tangy porch.

If she can’t talk me into letting her outside, she immediately moves on to other targets who usually relent. Lord help us when she gets to spend 12 days at her spa in September. There will be no living with her then.