Today the vet said my cockatriever was carrying a few extra pounds because she couldn’t feel his ribs or backbone.  If I had argued he isn’t fat, she would have quickly reassured me that she didn’t say fat, she said a little heavy.  

Weight euphemisms aside, my dog is now on a dog diet, and I feel sorry for him, more sorry than I feel for dieting me who at least can have variety in what I eat, substitute fat free for full fat, and eat fist sized portions of my favorite foods. 

My poor Nick has always lived on a diet of dry, light and dark brown bits, but now on this new diet he will just get fewer dry, light and dark brown bits.  Whoever coined it’s a dog’s life must have been thinking about a thin dog’s life. 

Knowing when to say no plays a big part in weight control for all living creatures. Wild birds and animals are well aware of survival of the fittest. Drummed into them from early on is getting out of shape equals death, getting out of shape equals death . . . Critters free to eat at will nix excess nibbling.  This not only gives them a physical edge, it helps them avoid the delusion that their fur or feathers have shrunk in the dryer.

Unfortunately, when animals became domesticated, they also became afflicted with human compulsions like eating too much if it’s set out.  Sure Nick could push away from the dog dish just before he feels he feels full, but most dogs don’t have any more will power than most humans who never save room for dessert but always eat it.

We know we should say no, but once we have said yes too often, we usually feel we should lose weight.   We search the diet section of the bookstore (no carb, low carb, no fat, low fat) but what it usually boils down to is what diet will let me eat the most? What program will let me shovel the most coal in the chute and ignore the eating for fuel reason we are supposed to eat in the first place? 

This evening, at the low ebb of willpower, I’m thinking about this dog diet.  Nick is carrying a few extra pounds and so am I, but neither one of us is going to be stalked and eaten, at least not tonight.  So I look at him and he looks back, then I hand him a treat and take out the ice cream. We’ll worry about keeping up with the pack tomorrow.  For now, I figure a dog’s life is going to be what we make of it.