Lucy has been wearing a grazing muzzle for about eight weeks
to prevent her from overeating, and the results are quite remarkable.
She's fit and trim, and I'm buckling the girth on her saddle
in holes we've never used before.
If she wore jeans, I'd have to buy her new ones in two sizes smaller.
Me: Don't even think about it, Lucy.
Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels...or so I'm told.
Her grazing muzzle is on about 20 hours a day.
I remove it for awhile at breakfast, lunch and dinner so that she can eat freely.
Managing her diet helps me manage mine – all the walking to and from the pasture is adding up.
My Fitbit keeps sending me emails congratulating me on the extra steps I'm taking.
If Lucy could send me emails, she would probably send death threats –
she does not like her grazing muzzle –
but she is resigned to wearing it.
Lucy: Crap. Here she comes again.
I'm grateful that Lucy doesn't run away when she sees me approaching with the grazing muzzle.
I'd be even more grateful if she didn't stare a hole in my back as I walked away.