So the extra food was completely unnecessary because Dog mainly spent her time not eating actual dog food and throwing up any that somehow made it into her stomach.
(Lila's stomach: "What the...? This is not Pupperoni! It's not even a Milk Bone! Or miscellaneous carnivore poop! Or a dried cranberry left on the ground by the firepit! Or that one thing I ate this morning out at that one place that I went to to do that one thing! In fact, this seems very much to me like...dog food!" Stomach forces stupid, evil dog food back up through esophagus while delicately holding its pyloric sphincter .)
When Dog wasn't expelling dog food, she was behaving as a perfect angel might, should you have the pleasure of taking one car camping. Just barking a little bit. Every once in a great while. And only at night, when things get scarier and your people, your sweet but stupid people, insist on putting themselves in needless danger by walking over to the bathroom or getting a sweater out of the truck or standing up.
Unlike a perfect angel, however, Dog did not fly. Although she came very close when we went for a long hike on Saturday and let her run a little. Down the hill! Up the hill! Along the path! Around the tree! Down the hill again! (Are you watching me, guys? Huh? Huh? Watch this - !) Up the hill! Down - oh wait. Something requires smelling.
I never saw Lila run so fast. I don't think I've ever seen her have so much fun. And I'm positive I've never seen her behave so well.