Vanity Fair magazine features a long, thoughtful article this month on the ways Dick Cheney's personality has changed since he was a light-hearted, prank-pulling Ford Administration wunderkind. It suggests, but does not confirm, that between Cheney's health issues and likely medications, his mood has darkened considerably.
But that's not what's got me upset. Vanity Fair includes a picture of Cheney walking with his dogs, Jackson and Dave, and, well..
They're big. Big as Labrador houses.
They need my help, Mr. Vice President. They need my book. They used to look like this:
http://www.whitehouse.gov/kids/vicepresident/jackson.html
But, as Dave admits on the White House Web site,
I have a very well developed appreciation for food.
No kidding! Dave, step away from the T-bones. Now.
Mr. Cheney, I do not judge you. During the past year, full of positive and negative stress, I put on the "newly published author's freshman 10." I understand anxiety snacking. But I have managed to watch my dog's weight, and not just because she's my poster girl for my books. Both of your dogs, like my dog, have reached middle age, when it becomes oh-so-important to watch their weight to avoid joint problems.
So I'm just saying: Just because you have the weight of the free world on your shoulders, doesn't mean that Jackson and Dave should be carrying half of it.
Call me. I would consider it my patriotic duty to give you a copy of my book.
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