My dog is fat.
I mean it’s not a secret but today my husband took him to the vet due to a limp (poor guy has a torn ligament in his knee – no idea how it happened) and the vet suggested he should perhaps lose a couple of pounds.
I mean after all the festive season is very nearly upon us and he’s counting on Santa to fill he and Toby’s stocking (They share one, the cats share another. I mean how ridiculous would it be for them to each have their own?) with treats. I’m sure the good doctor meant well and I’m sure Chuy had plans of trying to cut back a little on carbs in the New Year but I mean with an injury exercise is out of the question and he just can’t stomach kale. Neither can I, truth be told.
Honestly at any given time, I typically have two pets who are a little more rotund, and two who are not. Our dear Melody (RIP), was a sweet tabby cat that we nicknamed “Francesca” and referred to as our “plus-sized model”. She was fed the exact same food as her sister, Callie, and yet, where Melody was always quite voluptuous, Callie bordered on skinny and still does. It drove Melody insane. We all have a friend like that – one that can eat anything and everything and doesn’t gain a pound. That was Callie for Melody (and it was all the worse because they were sisters) and it drove quite the wedge between them.
My dogs? Maybe both a little on the portly side but Chuy in particular and they are fed the same food – which is probably the issue as Toby is a Golden Retriever and obviously then a large breed dog and Chuy is a Yorkie Shitzu mix…small breed – except his waist circumference is probably in the danger zone. So time to figure out a new feeding schedule and get Chuy some new food.
I haven’t told him yet. After a trip to the vet this morning I’m sure he’s stressed out enough without finding out I’m going to put him on a !$@# diet. He’s Latino, which I may have failed to mention, and he’s got a great appreciation for food. If you’re wondering what makes my dog Latino or how I know that then you obviously know very little about dogs. I mean his name is Chuy Alejandro and he protects our yard with a fierceness like no other and fire in his veins. How could he be anything but?
Toby will eat garbage and his own vomit…(which really? Stop) but maintains a decent weight, now that he’s elderly he’s even lost a little. Chuy is a bit more of a connoisseur and occasionally enjoys on some blue rare mice when Marley shares with him. Marley is our younger cat and usually beefs up for the winter but slims down in the summer as many of us do. Point being Chuy does not get extra treats or food but perhaps has a slower metabolism…maybe he’s just big boned.
So please, keep Chuy in your thoughts as he copes not only with an injury but a diet at the most wonderful time of the year. Although, I do think if he’s a real good boy, Santa may still slip a treat or two in his stocking.