I guess that headline is a bit sensational. The dog is not exactly svelte, but she has lost almost 30 pounds now, a third of her body weight.
It hasn't been easy. There were some very discouraging months there in which the Two People and the Very Fat dog were at a sort of weighty impasse. That's probably why it's been such a long time since I updated this blog. I didn't want to admit impasse, let alone defeat.
We went along for weeks and weeks feeding Princess Cassady 1 cup of green beans and 1 cup of diet kibble a day. It was hardly better than nothing. If I were a dog, I wouldn't have eaten it, but this chow hound ate every morsel of anything we gave her.
I mean anything.
Vegetables? She snagged them like a frog snatches bugs off a lily pad. She practically inhaled red-leaf lettuce -- without salad dressing, mind you -- something I've never seen a dog do before. She caught cucumbers in mid-air, chomped on apple cores and craved cauliflower. I can't recall her turning down a thing, even celery. Never have I seen such an omnivorous canine.
She was starving, at least that's how she played it. Twice she stole loaves of bread or packages of muffins off the kitchen counter while we were away. At one point, I wondered if she might run away to find a family that would nourish her with more than love and attention. But I wondered that in silence, as the other person might never have let her outdoors again.
The weight was stubborn. It fought gallantly, as did the rotund Golden Retriever. Cassady continued to lag and drag on our daily walks. She moved quickly only when cellophane was rustled, just to be disappointed time after time when we refused her extra food. Yet still she came.
And she still comes today at the slightest sound or smell that could possibly indicate the presence of food. But at last the weight is melting away, and Cassady is a new girl. She chases squirrels in the yard. She makes the walk around the circle without so much as a pant.
Our princess now weighs 91 lbs. People no longer say, "Wow! That's a really fat dog" when they meet her. And Cassady clearly feels a zillion times better. But that doesn't mean she's happy about it. She's still famished. She still comes runnin' to the sound of rustling cellophane.
The transformation is amazing, though. She's gone from plump to pleasing. The other day, a neighbor who has witnessed this glacially slow change said Cassady looks like she is having a wonderful life, that she is lucky to have found us.
That made us proud.
I just wish I felt better about it. Through most of this ordeal I've just felt mean, vexatious.
I shed 20 percent of my body weight a few years ago, so I have an idea what it's like to be hungry. I commiserate. Those beautiful, sad, brown doggie eyes just couldn't understand why there was plenty of food for us and green beans for her. They couldn't understand why we got top sirloin, marinated and grilled, and she got diet kibble. And those eyes still follow every motion of every fork, knife and spoon in the house. I wonder if that ever will end.
Photo coming tomorrow. I promise.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Our Princess isn't Princess any more!
I suppose it is my own fault for taking so long to call 24PetWatch.
I'd been meaning to do it pretty much every day since we acquired the Very Fat Dog (or she acquired us). Finally, this week, I thought of it at the right time, about 8 p.m. Wednesday (which just happened to be exactly three months after we met the portly Golden Retriever they called "Princess").
24PetWatch is a pet-identification service. They help lost pets get back to their humans using a computer chip implanted under the skin. Maybe the pet can't talk, but the chip can.
I dialed the phone number on her collar tag and gave Brenda, the pleasant-voiced woman on the other end, the serial number of the ID chip.
"Ah, I have it right here," said a cheerful Brenda. "Cassady, right?"
"No," said I. "Her name is Princess."
"Well," replied Brenda, "that's not what our records show. She's a female about 5 and a half years old, a Golden Retriever?"
"Wow," I responded. "We were told her name was Princess. She's from Georgia. Do you show her as being from Georgia?"
"That's right," said Brenda.
She then offered a date of birth, the same date we were given by the Golden Retriever Emergency Assistance Team when we adopted her.
The two people (that would be my wife and me) looked at each other, flabbergasted. This was quite a turn of events, and I figured there was only one way to tell if this shocking information was true: Ask her.
The Very Fat Dog was stretched out at Jeanne's feet, completely relaxed as if all was right with the world, more asleep than awake.
"Cassady!" I said crisply.
The effect was immediate, as if she had heard a gunshot -- or a ghost. Her whole body went instantly to attention. Her head snapped around as if jerked by a rope. The look in her eyes was shock, awe and deja vu all at once.
She got up and walked over to me, tail wagging.
That pretty much told the tale. I had thought it strange that this dog did not react as strongly to her name as most dogs do. You know, freeze you in your tracks like when a cop hollers, "Stop!" or when your Mom yelled at you with that certain intonation that let you know you were in deep trouble. For most dogs, a clear exclamation of their name will do it. Not Princess. It wasn't that she didn't react, just that she didn't freeze.
So, we now have a dog named "Cassady."
I wish I had asked Brenda how it is spelled. That might give us a clue as to why a lumbering female Golden Retriever would carry such a nom de plume.
Could it be she was named for teen idol Shaun Cassidy? Heaven forbid.
Could she be named for the actor Jack Cassidy, father of Shaun and David who burned to death in his Hollywood apartment in 1976?
Might she be named for Jack Casady, the legendary drummer for the Jefferson Airplane, Hot Tuna and Jimi Hendrix (whose name is often misspelled as "Cassidy")?
Maybe she's named for Butch Cassidy, as in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. She does have some experience with stealing.
Perhaps she is named for Neal Cassady, traveling companion of Jack Kerouac in "On the Road." That would be cool, very Dharma Bum sort of cool.
That must be it.
I'm going to call 24PetWatch again to get the spelling, but, regardless, we will never truly know her namesake, just as we will never know who taught her to fetch newspapers, who let her get so fat, and how many homes (and names) she has had.
That's the thing about rescuing animals. There is a lot you will never know... But you will know the most important thing -- that you made a difference!
I'd been meaning to do it pretty much every day since we acquired the Very Fat Dog (or she acquired us). Finally, this week, I thought of it at the right time, about 8 p.m. Wednesday (which just happened to be exactly three months after we met the portly Golden Retriever they called "Princess").
24PetWatch is a pet-identification service. They help lost pets get back to their humans using a computer chip implanted under the skin. Maybe the pet can't talk, but the chip can.
I dialed the phone number on her collar tag and gave Brenda, the pleasant-voiced woman on the other end, the serial number of the ID chip.
"Ah, I have it right here," said a cheerful Brenda. "Cassady, right?"
"No," said I. "Her name is Princess."
"Well," replied Brenda, "that's not what our records show. She's a female about 5 and a half years old, a Golden Retriever?"
"Wow," I responded. "We were told her name was Princess. She's from Georgia. Do you show her as being from Georgia?"
"That's right," said Brenda.
She then offered a date of birth, the same date we were given by the Golden Retriever Emergency Assistance Team when we adopted her.
The two people (that would be my wife and me) looked at each other, flabbergasted. This was quite a turn of events, and I figured there was only one way to tell if this shocking information was true: Ask her.
The Very Fat Dog was stretched out at Jeanne's feet, completely relaxed as if all was right with the world, more asleep than awake.
"Cassady!" I said crisply.
The effect was immediate, as if she had heard a gunshot -- or a ghost. Her whole body went instantly to attention. Her head snapped around as if jerked by a rope. The look in her eyes was shock, awe and deja vu all at once.
She got up and walked over to me, tail wagging.
That pretty much told the tale. I had thought it strange that this dog did not react as strongly to her name as most dogs do. You know, freeze you in your tracks like when a cop hollers, "Stop!" or when your Mom yelled at you with that certain intonation that let you know you were in deep trouble. For most dogs, a clear exclamation of their name will do it. Not Princess. It wasn't that she didn't react, just that she didn't freeze.
So, we now have a dog named "Cassady."
I wish I had asked Brenda how it is spelled. That might give us a clue as to why a lumbering female Golden Retriever would carry such a nom de plume.
Could it be she was named for teen idol Shaun Cassidy? Heaven forbid.
Could she be named for the actor Jack Cassidy, father of Shaun and David who burned to death in his Hollywood apartment in 1976?
Might she be named for Jack Casady, the legendary drummer for the Jefferson Airplane, Hot Tuna and Jimi Hendrix (whose name is often misspelled as "Cassidy")?
Maybe she's named for Butch Cassidy, as in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. She does have some experience with stealing.
Perhaps she is named for Neal Cassady, traveling companion of Jack Kerouac in "On the Road." That would be cool, very Dharma Bum sort of cool.
That must be it.
I'm going to call 24PetWatch again to get the spelling, but, regardless, we will never truly know her namesake, just as we will never know who taught her to fetch newspapers, who let her get so fat, and how many homes (and names) she has had.
That's the thing about rescuing animals. There is a lot you will never know... But you will know the most important thing -- that you made a difference!
Friday, May 7, 2010
The mysterious case of the missing sandwich
The Very Fat Dog is a thief. A food thief.
Just a Sunday ago, I was doing various errands around the house. You know, cleaning and such. Now and again, I would stop by the kitchen island to take a bite of a Cuban sandwich. I suppose it wasn't unusual for 10 minutes to pass between bites.
Cessie, the very fat dog, was hanging on my every move in the kitchen. But that's nothing new. This chow hound doesn't even trot unless she has to, but she comes running for the kitchen any time there is the rustle of cellophane or the opening of a box.
With sad, sad eyes, she looks longingly at whatever food one has, following every move from plate to hand to mouth. It was no different with the Cuban sandwich. She lay there on the kitchen floor, perking up when I would pass by for a bite. I suppose this could have gone on for half an hour or so.
I was busy enough that I actually forgot about the sandwich for a while. So I am not sure when it disappeared. All I know is that, suddenly, there was no Cuban sandwich on the island any more.
I did a sort of double take, wondering if I remembered correctly where I'd left it. And there was Cessie, lying in the same spot she'd been in all along. But her eyes gave her away. She knew she'd done wrong, and her eyes couldn't lie about it.
This dog is the hungriest animal we've ever encountered. She seems to be starving all the time, and when we give her snacks such as carrots, apple slices or raw green beans, it just seems to make her even more ravenous.
We've strictly regulated her diet to 3.5 cups of food per day, about 1/3 in the morning and the rest at the time we sit down to our evening meal. We've walked her religiously every single day, usually two half-mile journeys that Cessie struggles through bravely. (Actually, she's doing much better on the walks, even as the summer heat sets in. But she still walks more slowly than we would.)
Given all this exercise and careful feeding, we were expecting her to have lost a few more pounds when Jeanne took her for a monthly weigh-in at the vet last Monday. Nope. We were shocked and disappointed to find out she'd actually gained a pound this month, to 112.
Sorry I haven't written more frequently of our trials and tribulations with the very fat dog. My travel schedule was crazy in April.
Just a Sunday ago, I was doing various errands around the house. You know, cleaning and such. Now and again, I would stop by the kitchen island to take a bite of a Cuban sandwich. I suppose it wasn't unusual for 10 minutes to pass between bites.
Cessie, the very fat dog, was hanging on my every move in the kitchen. But that's nothing new. This chow hound doesn't even trot unless she has to, but she comes running for the kitchen any time there is the rustle of cellophane or the opening of a box.
With sad, sad eyes, she looks longingly at whatever food one has, following every move from plate to hand to mouth. It was no different with the Cuban sandwich. She lay there on the kitchen floor, perking up when I would pass by for a bite. I suppose this could have gone on for half an hour or so.
I was busy enough that I actually forgot about the sandwich for a while. So I am not sure when it disappeared. All I know is that, suddenly, there was no Cuban sandwich on the island any more.
I did a sort of double take, wondering if I remembered correctly where I'd left it. And there was Cessie, lying in the same spot she'd been in all along. But her eyes gave her away. She knew she'd done wrong, and her eyes couldn't lie about it.
This dog is the hungriest animal we've ever encountered. She seems to be starving all the time, and when we give her snacks such as carrots, apple slices or raw green beans, it just seems to make her even more ravenous.
We've strictly regulated her diet to 3.5 cups of food per day, about 1/3 in the morning and the rest at the time we sit down to our evening meal. We've walked her religiously every single day, usually two half-mile journeys that Cessie struggles through bravely. (Actually, she's doing much better on the walks, even as the summer heat sets in. But she still walks more slowly than we would.)
Given all this exercise and careful feeding, we were expecting her to have lost a few more pounds when Jeanne took her for a monthly weigh-in at the vet last Monday. Nope. We were shocked and disappointed to find out she'd actually gained a pound this month, to 112.
Sorry I haven't written more frequently of our trials and tribulations with the very fat dog. My travel schedule was crazy in April.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
A veggie-eating dog (who weighs 111 lbs)
I've always thought of canines as hard-core carnivores. I've had at least six dogs in my life, and every one of them turned up his/her nose at any form of vegetable. Not Cessie. This dog will eat pretty much anything.
It started with her first visit to our vet about six weeks ago. Dr. Jang suggested that her weight-loss program could include baby carrots, green beans and apple slices. Both Cessie and I looked at him with extreme skepticism. I would not have even thought to try feeding her such things.
Turns out she loves them, and lots of other stuff, too. She went for the carrots right off. She'll eat 10 of them in a row, making all sorts of crunching noises in the process. So Jeanne, Cessie's other pet human, tried the apple slices. That is a bit dicier. The dog won't take them unless Jeanne takes the first bite. Then Cessie will finish the rest of the slice.
It took a couple of weeks for us to get around to trying the fresh green beans. She went for those right away, too.
Last evening, I was making a huge tossed salad. After she'd gobbled a few carrots, I decided, just for grins, to try feeding her a 3-inch piece of celery. She left behind a few of the really stringy parts, but darned if she didn't eat most of it. So, next a tried a sliver of Vidalia onion just an inch long or so. She ate two of them and left behind not a trace. Radish slices were next. She gobbled them up, too.
I can't decide if Cessie has a surprisingly wide-ranging palate or is just so darned hungry that she'll eat just about anything. She weighed 121 when she was turned over to G.R.E.A.T., the Golden Retriever rescue group, in early February. As of yesterday, she's down to 111. That's a loss of just about 1 pound a week! Strangely, it's not showing up on her waistline yet. She's still a 38 (yes, 38 inches!).
Her physical conditioning is improving. If you've been reading these musings regularly, you know that she could barely make a half-mile walk around our neighborhood when we rescued her. She's doing much better now, but she still slows down for hills, squirrels and birds.
Here's a better video of the Amazing Newspaper Trick.
It started with her first visit to our vet about six weeks ago. Dr. Jang suggested that her weight-loss program could include baby carrots, green beans and apple slices. Both Cessie and I looked at him with extreme skepticism. I would not have even thought to try feeding her such things.
Turns out she loves them, and lots of other stuff, too. She went for the carrots right off. She'll eat 10 of them in a row, making all sorts of crunching noises in the process. So Jeanne, Cessie's other pet human, tried the apple slices. That is a bit dicier. The dog won't take them unless Jeanne takes the first bite. Then Cessie will finish the rest of the slice.
It took a couple of weeks for us to get around to trying the fresh green beans. She went for those right away, too.
Last evening, I was making a huge tossed salad. After she'd gobbled a few carrots, I decided, just for grins, to try feeding her a 3-inch piece of celery. She left behind a few of the really stringy parts, but darned if she didn't eat most of it. So, next a tried a sliver of Vidalia onion just an inch long or so. She ate two of them and left behind not a trace. Radish slices were next. She gobbled them up, too.
I can't decide if Cessie has a surprisingly wide-ranging palate or is just so darned hungry that she'll eat just about anything. She weighed 121 when she was turned over to G.R.E.A.T., the Golden Retriever rescue group, in early February. As of yesterday, she's down to 111. That's a loss of just about 1 pound a week! Strangely, it's not showing up on her waistline yet. She's still a 38 (yes, 38 inches!).
Her physical conditioning is improving. If you've been reading these musings regularly, you know that she could barely make a half-mile walk around our neighborhood when we rescued her. She's doing much better now, but she still slows down for hills, squirrels and birds.
Here's a better video of the Amazing Newspaper Trick.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
The amazing newspaper trick
One thing about rescuing a dog is that you never know what they have been taught by the previous owner.
In the third week of the very fat dog's life with us, the two people had to travel. We prefer not to kennel our animals, especially when they have been with us for such a short time, so our good friend Jean came over to stay with Princess for two nights while we were away.
One morning, Jean took "Cessie," as we're now calling her, out when she went to pick up the newspapers. To her amazement, the dog waddled over and very gently picked up the New York Times. The dog then walked right in the house with it and laid it at Jean's feet!
What an amazing feat!
Oh, and she expects a treat after each fetch. Check it out below.
In the third week of the very fat dog's life with us, the two people had to travel. We prefer not to kennel our animals, especially when they have been with us for such a short time, so our good friend Jean came over to stay with Princess for two nights while we were away.
One morning, Jean took "Cessie," as we're now calling her, out when she went to pick up the newspapers. To her amazement, the dog waddled over and very gently picked up the New York Times. The dog then walked right in the house with it and laid it at Jean's feet!
What an amazing feat!
Oh, and she expects a treat after each fetch. Check it out below.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Meeting Dr. Jang
Saturday was a big day for the very fat dog and her people. We went to the vet.
Perhaps we, her people, were more excited than she was because poor Miss Princess has spent more time at the vet lately that she prefers. I think she's made three trips in three weeks, and she, of course, would prefer no trips at all. But this was special because it was the first time she met "our" vet.
We have used the same veterinary practice, Aalatash Animal Hospital, for 15 years or so. At first, there was quite a succession of young doctors, mostly recent graduates of the University of Florida vet school. Then came Dr. Jang, and he has been with us for the lives and deaths of our last couple of pets.
Getting Princess in the car on a cold, rainy Saturday morning was the first order of business, and it was quite a feat. I opened the back door of the four-door car and encouraged her to jump in. The very fat dog gave me a look of pure skepticism.
After several seconds of indecision, she gave it a try. The front paws went up, but the back ones did not follow. I had to give her rear end a boost.
Naturally, being a dog, she managed to immediately remove the blanket I'd used to protect the back seat so she could get her wet, muddy paws all over her mom's leather upholstery (hopefully, Jeanne won't read this...).
Getting her out of the car was easier, thank goodness, and she trotted willingly into the vet's office. When the sights and smells of the place greeted her, Princess wasn't so sure she'd been wise to cooperate.
Next came the moment of truth: The weigh-in. She walked right up on the scale and sat willingly. The verdict was 114, a loss of three pounds in about a week.
Princess was a trooper as Dr. Jang poked and prodded her, eventually pronouncing her sound and healthy.
We discussed the weight-loss program I had devised -- 2 cups of Nutra MAX and 2 half-mile walks per day. He suggested that diet might be a bit extreme and recommended we give 3 to 4 cups of food each day.
I said our goal is to get her down to 85 lbs in a year. Dr. Jang said that was a good goal, but she probably should lose even more weight than that -- she ultimately should weigh more like 70 lbs.
The very fat dog gave him a look of pure skepticism (and so did I).
Perhaps we, her people, were more excited than she was because poor Miss Princess has spent more time at the vet lately that she prefers. I think she's made three trips in three weeks, and she, of course, would prefer no trips at all. But this was special because it was the first time she met "our" vet.
We have used the same veterinary practice, Aalatash Animal Hospital, for 15 years or so. At first, there was quite a succession of young doctors, mostly recent graduates of the University of Florida vet school. Then came Dr. Jang, and he has been with us for the lives and deaths of our last couple of pets.
Getting Princess in the car on a cold, rainy Saturday morning was the first order of business, and it was quite a feat. I opened the back door of the four-door car and encouraged her to jump in. The very fat dog gave me a look of pure skepticism.
After several seconds of indecision, she gave it a try. The front paws went up, but the back ones did not follow. I had to give her rear end a boost.
Naturally, being a dog, she managed to immediately remove the blanket I'd used to protect the back seat so she could get her wet, muddy paws all over her mom's leather upholstery (hopefully, Jeanne won't read this...).
Getting her out of the car was easier, thank goodness, and she trotted willingly into the vet's office. When the sights and smells of the place greeted her, Princess wasn't so sure she'd been wise to cooperate.
Next came the moment of truth: The weigh-in. She walked right up on the scale and sat willingly. The verdict was 114, a loss of three pounds in about a week.
Princess was a trooper as Dr. Jang poked and prodded her, eventually pronouncing her sound and healthy.
We discussed the weight-loss program I had devised -- 2 cups of Nutra MAX and 2 half-mile walks per day. He suggested that diet might be a bit extreme and recommended we give 3 to 4 cups of food each day.
I said our goal is to get her down to 85 lbs in a year. Dr. Jang said that was a good goal, but she probably should lose even more weight than that -- she ultimately should weigh more like 70 lbs.
The very fat dog gave him a look of pure skepticism (and so did I).
8 Miles High; 3lbs Low
The mostly affable Princess has walked 8 miles in the past week. Every one of them, at least the uphill parts, has been a struggle for both of us.
For her, it's just a matter of conditioning, and each trip is just a teensy bit easier than the last one. To her credit, Princess looks forward to these walks, even though I can tell they are difficult for her.
For me, it's mostly frustration. I walk for exercise, and plodding ever so slowly up the "hill" is hardly what anyone under 80 would call exercise.
Still, we're getting along well. She's beginning to understand what's expected of her in this new, adoptive home, and I'm beginning to understand that it's going to take a good while for her to be able to walk at my speed.
We are making progress on her weight. When Princess was surrendered three weeks ago to the Golden Retriever Emergency Assistance Team, she weighed 121. When we got her from a foster home on Friday, Feb. 19, she weighed 117. Yesterday, she weighed in at 114.
For her, it's just a matter of conditioning, and each trip is just a teensy bit easier than the last one. To her credit, Princess looks forward to these walks, even though I can tell they are difficult for her.
For me, it's mostly frustration. I walk for exercise, and plodding ever so slowly up the "hill" is hardly what anyone under 80 would call exercise.
Still, we're getting along well. She's beginning to understand what's expected of her in this new, adoptive home, and I'm beginning to understand that it's going to take a good while for her to be able to walk at my speed.
We are making progress on her weight. When Princess was surrendered three weeks ago to the Golden Retriever Emergency Assistance Team, she weighed 121. When we got her from a foster home on Friday, Feb. 19, she weighed 117. Yesterday, she weighed in at 114.
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