Memoirs of a Fat Girl

Although I'd like to begin chronologically, as one of you suggested, in this case I have to go last event, first. 2500 doggie biscuits. That's a lot of doggie biscuits. That's a lot of anything.

When I first got Bluetooth, I was like any eager mother making sure her baby had the best bed, toys, clothing, schools, and food. I'm not a dress your dog sort of girl, but winters can be harsh for a little 35lb guy, and I'm a firm believer that every puppy should go to obedience school. The food part I threw myself into, and Bluetooth started out with rice, chicken, sweet potatoes and carrots. Thanks to my mother, anyway, since she spoiled him rotten. But to this day, I get him the finest chow money can buy.

Baking his treats started out by accident. Due to the sweet potato and chicken stews made just for him, Bluetooth is a picky drama queen. Hey, I would be too. Imagine having your own special food made from the best ingredients, and then having some godforsaken kibble shoved in front of your nose, first ingredient, tired cornmeal? It doesn't work. This shitpicking, of course, extended to his treats. He'll either take the most expensive stuff, or nothing at all. The amount of money I've spent on trial treats probably tops my cashflow towards hair and beauty products. As you can see, I love my dog beyond any measure of sanity.

Around the time Bluetooth was turning his nose away from positively everything, I tracked down some dog cookbooks. Boring, lacking, spice-less, the most of them, so I went out on a limb. If you like to bake and can read between the lines, homemade dog treats aren't that much different from people treats. Go through the dog toxicology lists first (i.e., chocolate, onions and grapes = BAD!), then just leave out the salt, substitute butter with oil, and sugar with honey or molasses. Soft treats are fine, but if you want them nice and crunchy, just do a double bake. Bake the treats normally first, then after they've completely cooled, put them back in the oven at 300F for a half hour or so, depending on the thickness. Easy stuff.

Needless to say, anything I made with beef or cheese he gobbled down like a greedy little monkey, then came back begging for more. Happy that I'd done my baby justice, I baked treats in such large batches that even all my friends' dogs had the pleasure of sampling goods from the baker's oven.

This is where my friend Loulou comes in. On the outside, she is everything I am not: short, straight blonde hair, and the body of a lingerie model. On the inside, we are the same person: sassy, outspoken, entrepreneurs born in a family business, and intense love for our pets. In Loulou's case, the object of her affection is Petey, a tiny little Jack Russell who wolfs down my treats, then licks my ear in thanks.

Loulou and I clicked a few years back while working at the same store in a very chi-chi part of town. Later, we toyed with the idea of starting some kind of canine-related business. Loulou has a background in fashion design and does her own sewing, I bake and come up with ideas at a million miles per minute. We whipped up a dozen different scenarios before settling on this one: just this past weekend, Loulou rented out a booth at Woofstock, doggie festival extraordinaire, to show off some flash little peacoats and hoodies. She remembered some cheesy biscuits I'd whipped up awhile back, and asked me to provide a bunch of itty bitty ones as a promo piece. And then, in the middle of my baking frenzy, she also suggested that maybe I should have my own little table of delicacies to sell.

Life takes you in strange directions. Student turned Journalist turned Writer turned Typist turned Dog Baker. Which of these things just doesn't belong? Everytime I mixed up ingredients or took out a paw-shaped cookie cutter, I reminded myself that liking something doesn't mean you'll do it forever. I didn't start out as a canine pastry chef, and lord knows I won't end as one.

But then again, I do love to try new things. So for now... why not?