"How much does it say?" Silky Josephine asks. 
     She's on the scale at the Veterinarian's. 
     "You have to hold still Josie," I tell her. 
     Every day of the seven weeks she has been on her diet, Silky has looked at her reflection in the glass of the oven door and asked if she didn't look skinnier, asked if we can't go to the Veterinarian and confirm this possibility. 
     Despite her excitement, she manages to sit still on the big scale, not rabbit still, but near enough the devise can run its calculations. 
     We watch together as it sorts through numbers ... up and down, down then up, until finally it decides. 
     74, it reads. 
    "Two pounds, Josie!" I tell her. "You lost two pounds!" 
   Silky beams. "I knew it!," she says, "I knew I looked skinnier!" 

     Maybe Silky did see her loss in the oven door, but to be quite honest, I didn't. In fact, I was a little worried she had gained some. But the numbers don't lie. Two pounds down. 
     "You are skinnier, my sweet, silly girl," I say, and hug her deeply. "Light as an Angel's feather." 
     And walking through the Veterinarian's, past the other dogs and one grey cat in a box, I can see it, too, proud as Silky was, she really was light as an Angel's feather.