It turns out that the cause of the snit was this. Someone had the unmitigated gall to tell poor Reg that his dog was overweight. Actually, the word this person used was fat. Now I should perhaps explain that Reginald is extremely proud of his dog, "Barlow" by name, who is part Bloodhound and part "one-night stand". Still, Barlow is a striking dog in appearance, retaining most of the hound-like features with the exception of feathering (long hair) along his legs and tail, and two blue eyes. However, there is of course this; Barlow is indeed overweight.
I'm not sure why it happened, maybe it was because up until now I was enjoying a pleasant evening with a good book, a glass of wine, red of course, with my own dog at my feet or maybe it was because I just can't help myself, but what I did next is what I so often times unintentionally do. I poured gasoline on the fire. That is to say, I expressed to Reginald that perhaps the insulting person had a point. Well, as you might have guessed, Reg was off again, tirade building like a storm and all I could do was listen and take it because it was, after all, my own fault.
Eventually, the storm blew itself out like all storms eventually do and I suggested to Reginald that in the morning we take a walk to the local park and see how Barlow compares to other dogs. He readily agreed at which time I took the opportunity to ring off as quickly as possible while I had the chance. Still reeling a bit from the effects of the storm, I poured myself something a little "stiffer" and was off to bed.
The next morning arrived much too soon for my liking, for while it appeared the day would be one filled with pleasant temps and sunshine, I knew for myself it would be grey and dreary. Reginald arrived right on time, despite my prayers that he be taken ill (shameful of me I know), with Barlow in tow. I gave the dog a pat on the head, and stroked him down along his side, actually feeling for any hint of a rib, for which I found none. This time I kept my foot planted firmly on the ground so as to prevent it from ending up where it did the night before.
Off to the park we went, each of us out to prove a point to the other and little did I expect that I was about to lose. Each and every dog we encountered appeared to look just like Barlow, which is to say, to my eye anyway, overweight. Reginald noticed it at once and immediately puffed right up like a strutting grouse.
"You see" he said to me, "my dog is not fat, it is your dog that is too thin". Uncertain of what to say next, I suggested we sit a moment while I composed my thoughts.
I have a friend who lives in a nearby town. His name is Kenneth and he operates a kennel where he breeds and trains dogs of a few varieties. He is a crusty sort of chap, whose goal it seems is to murder the English language but he is a descent fellow just the same. I suggested to Reginald that we pay my friend a visit and ask his opinion on the matter. He agreed and off we went.
One can never tell if Kenneth is pleased to have company or not, because of this occupational habit he has of talking in the same manner without regard to whom he is addressing, be they human or canine. We greeted Kenneth, to which he replied, "come" then gesturing to a bench "sit" and next, "speak". We explained our predicament and waited expectantly for his reply. He got up, instructed us to "stay", and went out to one of his kennels. He returned with one of the leanest dogs I have ever seen and asked us what we thought.
Reginald jumped up (without permission) and vehemently exclaimed, "why that dog has been abused, he is emaciated". I can't say that I completely agreed with him, but I did wonder a bit as I could see the outline of the dogs ribs. My interpretation of what Kenneth said is this. He explained that dogs are built, or more accurately bred, for the job they have to do. This particular dog was an English Pointer, and it's job was to run several hours each day in search of quarry for it's owner. If the dog was carrying more weight, it would cause damage to it's joints, inhibit the function of it's organs, and in general shorten the dog's lifespan. What Kenneth actually said, was this. "That dog there is like one of them chaps what runs them marathon races. You never seen one of them blokes being a fatty did you"! Sigh.
Next, Kenneth brought out two more dogs, one was an exceptionally looking Labrador Retriever and the other a powerfully built Alaskan Malamute. Without going into a long explanation of my interpretation of what Kenneth said and without subjecting you, dear readers, to what Kenneth actually said, suffice it to say he explained the work each dog was bred to do and how their build was suited to its work; the Lab swimming through strong currents and sometimes ice flows while making a retrieve, much like a football linebacker fighting off a block to make a tackle and then the Malamute towing heavy loads such as sleds filled with mail or supplies, much like those gents in "Strong Men" competitions towing trucks or blocks to a finish line. Each dog properly equipped with proper mass and muscle to perform its tasks.
Poor Reginald couldn't help himself and at this point asked Kenneth to assess his dog. Kenneth obliged, looked the dog over and in his manner replied, "why that dog is just plain f#@%^& fat"! I thought poor Reginald was going to explode, his face turning purple, sputtering to try to find the right words, so I jumped in. I explained to Kenneth our experience in the park and asked his opinion. He explained (again my interpretation, you're welcome) that the average owner doesn't realize their dog is overweight, acquiring their dogs not for a purpose but for their looks and then proceed to kill them with kindness. They feed their dogs more food than required, spoil them with treats and give no thought to exercising them. A walk in the park is just that and only done long enough for the dog to relieve itself. He explained that this isn't the case with all dogs of course and that there are breeds better suited for a more sedentary lifestyle. Unfortunately, too many people acquire dogs for the wrong purpose. He added that people get so used to seeing overweight dogs, that an overweight dog becomes the norm. We thanked Kenneth for his helpful and colorful information and bid him adieu.
We made our way back to my home where I prepared for us a small lunch and some iced tea. We discussed our morning's activities and I asked Reginald if his mind had been changed at all. He said it was not. He broke off a piece of his sandwich, gave it to Barlow and added his dog was definitely not fat.
May your canine companions remain happy and healthy,
Cheers,
Dogwood
