Chuckle #443 | March 9th, 2011
The Dog Days of Dieting
My vet has declared my dog ‘overweight’ by exactly three pounds. I think she made that number up. Are there really “ideal” doggy weights? The fact that the vet did not substantiate her opinion with detailed CDC recommended height/weight charts makes me wonder if the whole thing is a hoax.
Vets know very well that every dog owner over-treats and over-feeds his dog. Who here hasn’t shared the occasional ice cream cone with “Spot”? But vets are smarter than us. To keep owner overfeeding in check, they simply declare each and every dog just a wee bit fat.
Since my dog’s “diagnosis” my daughter has taken to calling him (affectionately of course) FATTY. This does absolutely nothing for his self-esteem.
Just so you know; my dog is NOT fat. I’ve seen fat dogs. I prefer to think of my dog, like my husband, as being “just right”. What’s a love handle here and there among friends? In the case of the dog it is only excess winter fur that gives him the illusion of being chubby. Once he has his spring shave he will regain his svelte figure.
If only there was a “Spring Shave” option for me.
I did not, at first, consider three pounds to be a big deal. But then I did the math. Three pounds is 14% of his body weight. That would be like me gaining 16 pounds, which is a lot, so I can kind of see the vet’s point. If I put on that much weight I would need an entirely new wardrobe. Lucky for me, I don’t buy clothes for my dog.
So after much handwringing and internal debate, my dog is now on a diet. And I’ve never felt more TERRIBLE.
My dog never used to beg at the table and steal food off the counter when he was getting the full recommended serving of dog food every day. Now he does. But in his defense, I’m sure that he’s only become a food hound because he’s so gosh darn HUNGRY.
Let’s face facts. Being on a diet is no fun. I barely have the discipline to stay on my OWN diet, forget about keeping the dog on his. Those big puppy-dog eyes follow my every move in the kitchen. It’s killing me. You’d think that it would be relatively easy to say “Suck it up Spot, no pain no gain.” Well it’s not.
My dog hasn’t lost any weight yet, but this is neither my fault, nor his. There is a vast conspiracy of “treating” that goes on behind my back by the mailman, the laundry delivery guy, UPS, and the cleaning lady.
These people don’t care how fat my dog gets. They don’t have to face the music at the vet. All they want is a dog that is deliriously happy to see them. And while this does not reflect very well on my dog’s character, delirium is easily achieved with a pocket full of milk bones.
The good news is that I have a full year to make some progress before my dog’s next check-up. The bad news is that I’m beginning to think that shorting the dog’s food might be a little too risky. Risky because the only dependable source we have for unconditional love in this life is SPOT, no matter what our kids might tell us on Mother’s Day.
So bottom line, messing with Spot may not be such a good idea.
