Just a Little Waddle

I recently took Dexter our corgi dog for his annual check-up.  It was mostly uneventful, except when our vet felt around the dog's belly, haunches and shoulders and said a quiet "hmmm." 

"You know, he could really stand to lose a bit of weight," she said gently.

"Really, because I thought he was supposed to be stocky.  You know, a short, stocky working dog.  A herding dog.  Strong, and you know, stocky?"  I trailed off as I noticed she wasn't agreeing with me.

"Yes, but look, he's waddling a little," she said with a chuckle.

 
As we discussed ways for him to lose a couple of pounds, I started to feel more and more guilty, especially when she asked if he likes to run and chase things.  The dog loves to run.  His short white legs seem to barely touch the ground when he really gets going.  The fact is, the dog is hyper, fast and always wants to play, particularly if we will let him chase and herd us.  So much so that we got into the habit of fending him off with two particularly long lasting treats, bully sticks and oinkies, both of which are apparently terribly fattening.  As the vet put it, "Think how much you would weigh if you ate pork rinds all day."  I'm not sure what a pork rind is and don't think I'd go near one, but I got the picture.

I could tell the guilt was getting to me because I had a dream about his heftiness.  At our pediatrician's office, there's hundreds of holiday card photos of children, some with dogs, hanging up.  There's one I notice every time.  It's an obese dachshund.  The dog literally looks like it swallowed an extra large hippity hop ball.  He is amazingly round with a tiny little head.  The picture has always held a morbid fascination for me.  I have no idea how old the picture or the dog is and how things worked out for that poor beast.  But I had a dream that Dexter looked like that.

I decided that walking Dexter more often was the perfect New Year's resolution.  Fresh air and exercise for both of us sounded like a win win.  Daily walks were the plan.

I live on a steep street with no sidewalks, making it less than ideal for walks.  As a result, I usually take Dexter to downtown Katonah, a charming small town with lots of stores and restaurants that's only a five minute drive from my house. 

The problem is, it's hard to call what we end up doing exercise.  First he bounds out of the car, stops, and sniffs.  Then he decides he's on the trail of something so he runs a few storefronts down, which I go along with, because after all, we're supposedly exercising.  Then he stops again and walks in circles for a few minutes, occasionally wrapping his leash around me. 

His favorite move occurs near the library.  There is a quaint stone sloping retaining wall in front of the library lawn next to the sidewalk.  The dog invariably goes up for a sniff where the wall is sidewalk level, then trots along the lawn until he's suddenly reached the section where the wall is just over waist high for me and the short dog is now at my eye level.  He then looks at me and considers a reckless jump while I attempt to lead him back to safety.  

Then there is his unrequited town dog crush.  The owner of Squires, a small department store, has a large show dog who is always in the store.  Once over the summer, the boys and I were walking Dexter in town and I decided to multitask and take them to get their fall shoes there.  The sales staff got us sorted out even with the hyper puppy in tow, but the big news was that Dexter met and fell in love with the resident dog.  He now races to Squires, whining and jumping to go in every time we walk past.  Every once in a while I give in.  The object of his affection is tolerant and gracious, but not much else.  

Finally there's his approach to strangers.  He wants them to love him.  Sometimes when passing someone he'll go for a basic charming butt wag move (pure bred Corgis only have little stumps where their tails should be, but they still wag the general area.)  If that doesn't work, he either will try a surprise jump, usually with someone particularly clean and well dressed.  Or, he will get down on his belly, crawl forward an inch or two, and whine like a poor orphan dog who has never been given affection in his life.  He's as good at embarrassing me as my children are.

With all this activity, our walks do last a while and are fairly entertaining.  I'm just not so sure of the exercise part.

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[BergerKatheryn35]

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