A little touch of obesity
I brought our dog Penny for her annual road test yesterday.
I was supposed to go at the beginning of the month but I was busy, and anyway Penny hasn't a clue what week it is let alone the month so I doubt it matters.
Anyhows, they prodded her and poked her, listened to her heart and poked things up her arse, stuck needles in her and generally gave her everything except an oil change and a headlight check. I don't like these sessions as it was at one of these that they discovered our Sandy had a tumour four years ago. This time, Penny got a clean bill of health with a little sharp intake of breath as a postscript.
I don't like sharp intakes of breath as they usually indicate a lurking undercurrent of disapproval. I wasn't wrong.
"She's a bit overweight?"
"She's just big boned" I replied with a mental thanks to Cartman of South Park.
"Nice try, but she is definitely a bit porky."
"Not at all" says I. "She's a mongrel who inherited a small head, a long tail and long thin legs from her mother and a fucking big body from her father. I know she looks a bit unbalanced, but that's nature for you."
Unfortunately they had been keeping records of Penny's weight. Back in '14 she weighed 17 kilos, and in '15 she weighed 21. We weighed her: 21 again.
"At least she hasn't gained anything?" I said hopefully.
That didn't wash, and the outcome is that Penny has to lose at least 3 kilos. Fuck!
This is going to be very tricky. The problem is that Penny is violently allergic to exercise. A walk of more than a couple of hundred yards sends her into anaphylactic shock and the only cure for that is a long lie-down. A couple of years ago I tried throwing a tennis ball for her and she gave me a disdainful look and went straight to sleep. Apparently tennis balls are for idiots, in her book at least,
Penny likes her rest. Never stand if you can sit, and never sit if you can lie down, is her motto in life and she sticks to it rigidly. Occasionally she will have a mad fit and tear around the garden at a frightening rate of knots and sometimes she chases imaginary cats but those moments are few and far between. The rest of the time is devoted to either lying down or sleeping.
So I am going to have to starve her.
She ain't gonna like that.
I can see many days ahead where she is going to lie on the floor with an empty bowl between her legs giving me pathetic looks while I try to ignore her.
She is a genius at looking pathetic.
Just fuck off and let me sleep. OK?
Seems that Penny and I have more in common than I had previously thought.
I get the impression that neither of us is too concerned about our current state.
I don't think she's that concerned all right. At the moment she's following a fly around the room. Though I should explain – she's lying on the couch swiveling her eyes at a fly. Less effort involved.
Get her a cat to play with. Simples!
No thanks. I value my furniture.
Get her started on smoking Gitanes, my wife says the French women are so slim because of their diet of Gitanes and espressos.
I read today [somewhere, I think] that France are talking about banning Galoises And Gitanes as they are too iconic. Can't see the French taking too kindly to that?
Ah! Found it – https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/jul/20/french-smokers-fume-france-plans-ban-gitanes-gauloises-cigarettes
Better get her on them PDQ, then, Gramps!
Après Galoises et Gitanes le déluge des Woodbines.
Do not be fooled! French women being skinny is a myth although there are a few boney stick insects who look like they'll blow away in a light breeze. There are some right porkers as well. The book "French Women Don't Get Fat" or something like that was some French Hen's way of making money for a diet book and is a load of old bollox.
We used to have a dog who we took for her MOT and got the same message as you Grandad – she's too fat and needed to lose a couple of kilos. She didn't overeat and liked her walks so we were a bit miffed. She was a great hairy beastie so before her next check-up we took her to the dog barbers and had her clipped. At her next weigh-in a few weeks later she'd "lost" 2 kilos and was now her ideal weight! 🙂
We do love our hounds. Our beloved Chloe went for her annual health check 6 months ago. As she was getting on (14 years) the vet performed a blood test. The upshot was that Chloe had liver disease of unknown cause. The vet could not be specific as to why. It could be due to a tumour or idiopathic. He advised against further testing as it would not alter the treatment or outcome. She soldered on for another 4 months in seemingly good health before suddenly dying. Sadly we were on holiday at the time. We miss her so much and the sadness has not diminished.
I confess that when I wrote the above I looked back to the post about Sandy and my eyes got a little moist! Losing a faithful pet is the hardest thing and at the time I swore no animal could ever replace Sandy.
However, against my better judgment I was coerced into visiting a rescue centre where we found Penny. Now Penny could never replace Sandy, but she more than filled that hole in my life, and I swear that Sandy somehow picked Penny for us as she is virtually the perfect dog. As I said to the vet yesterday – in four years I have never ever had to scold her for anything.
While I will always remember Sandy with love [I still miss her], Penny more than filled the void that was left. If anything should ever happen to Penny [God forbid], I'd be straight down to the rescue centre again.
Thank you, Grandad. Your view helps me to question mine – and therefore might lessen the horror of one day losing my irreplacable dog. I always think: no other dog will ever be able to replace him. But to think about another animal maybe being able to fill the void he will leave … might help.
So, again: Thx for offering this way of thinking. I'll move it through my head for the time being … 😉
Afterwards Herself and the daughter admitted they had conspired to get me down to the rescue centre, as they said I looked so miserable! It really was the best thing to do, and I would really recommend that course for anyone who has lost a dear pet.
I second that! I went into a deep depression for 6 months after my previous rescued dog passed away. The family had decided we weren't going to have another one as they are very tying and we thought we'd like to travel a bit as our old lad had health problems and we wouldn't leave him with anyone else. In the end I said bugger that and went and got another two! There is nothing like a dog to keep you amused and they give something back that other humans struggle to give – unconditional love.
I know what you mean, but I don't think it's unconditional, that love. You can bring a dog do follow your every word and gesture even if you treat him horribly. The love you have to earn by treating him well. So it's not unconditional – but priceless and one of the most beautiful things to earn.
The telling gesture is to raise your hand to the dog. If the dog flinches that's a bad sign!
I'm delighted to say that our Penny reacts to a raised hand with a grin and a wag of the tail, before rolling to get her tummy tickled.