Yesterday, the kids and I took Farley the Wonderdog to the vet for his regular exam and shots, you know. That stuff. We take him in,the kids find the kittens the vet is trying to save and sucker up clients to adopt: "Gee Mom, it's too bad you're allergic to cats." Yep. Keep remembering that, Max. So, while they were distracted with all that, I took Farley over to get weighed.
With all the weight loss going on in our house, I thought nothing of it. But Farley the Wonderdog was wiggling and, so I weighted him three times. I finally got him to sit on the scale before and could not believe what I saw. ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FOUR POUNDS. I'm fairly certain this is the heaviest this dog has ever been. Just like when I went to weigh in for the first time at Weight Watchers, now it's not just a few extra pounds. It's a problem. 25 pounds of a problem. I knew while we sat there and waited that I was going to get in trouble. I even changed my posture from bad-ass momma to kid waiting for the principal. Farley the Wonderdog knew he was in for it, too.
For the last three years, Dr. M has been telling me that Farley should lose some weight. And for the past three years, he's gained weight instead- a little more everytime we bring him in. So, as soon as Dr. M came in, I started with what I always use in my defense in adverse situations: Jokes.
Dr. M: "Looks like Farley's still gaining weight."
Me: "Well, he IS named after Chris Farely, so, we have his namesake to uphold to." Nervous chuckle....chuckle.....chuckle.... awkward pause.
Dr. M: "Didn't Chris Farley die in misery and shame and excessive indulgence?"
Funhater.
And proceed with the serious lecture. But this time I tried to defend myself.
"Okay, but when we've tried this before, his gas alone was validation to give up and let him gain weight."
"Uh, how long did you put him on the diet? It only takes a few days for the gas to subside and his stomach to get used to it."
"Fine, it was two days, but two of the worst days of my life. I had to buy hazmat masks, for God's sake."
Later on, I say to the doctor:
"Well, we took him off the Prozac, and so, my big concern is that when we put him on this diet, he'll uh, well, he'll eat the house."
"Ever thought about locking him up?"
"Yeah, we tried that."
"What happened?"
"He ate the house. He ate the wall. Seriously.Come over, I'll show you. We left it as is for proof."
Here's what he did to a WALL when we "locked him up" in the guest room. So, now, guests are greeted by this:
HE ATE THE WALL, folks. THE WALL.
Dr. M didn't believe me. But promised that if Farley DID have said incident again, that I could call and he'd come over to see it for himself.
Before we left, Dr. M. was petting Farley while Farley was laying down. And he just stared in awe, "He's huge. He's way too big. This isn't fair to him."
So, now Farley the Wonderdog is on a strict diet. The kids and Ricardo (Gramma - you too) have been put on complete restriction from feeding this dog any scraps or anything tasty at all. It's diet dog food baby. I wonder how many points it comes out to?
Day one, Dr. M. DAY ONE, and we came home to his expression of disapproval of such attrocities as this diet bull shit (That's Farley the Wonderdog's words, not mine):
Yep, that's a soiled pullup he snacked on. You showed us Farley, you nasty dog. That's so gross. I took the picture and left the mess for Ricardo to clean up. And yes, up to this point, that is a Farley proofed garbage pail.
Here's his "before" picture. He has to lose 20 pounds. He could stand to lose 30, but the doctor said 20 would be okay.
In case you can't tell what a gigantore this dog is, I took this picture for perception's sake. I'm 6'3". This dog weighs only 50 pounds less than me.
When Ricardo was taking these pictures, he looked down at me and Farley the Wonderdog and exclaimed, "Man, now that I look at him in the camera, I see, he's really really fat." So, I've opted to take more pictures with Farley, seeing as how he makes me look so tiny and all...
Wish us luck!
That's how I roll.
sweet!
Wonderful insight