Pudge: A 17-lb. Heavyweight

Sadie was one-and-a-half when we adopted her from a local pet rescue. At the time, she weighed the exact same as our well-fed cat; a solid twelve pounds. She was as quiet as a church mouse, never barked and loved going for long walks in the park. That was three-years, six-months and four-days ago.
But lately, we've noticed a shift in her motivation, and anything that might normally have summoned a desire to get off the couch is now being met with a series of stretches and lethargic maneuvers. What used to spark an eager and playful curiosity seems to be just another unwelcome interference to what she likes to call an afternoon nap–no matter what time of day or night it may be. And that delightful invitation we send her throughout the day is now beingreturned to sender, by means of no response...

"Come on, Sadie... Wanna go outside?!"

The husband seems to think that she's just suffering from seasonal depression after piling on an abnormal amount of winter weight. And as she waddles to the door each morning, fiercely shaking off at least two of her forty odd winks, it becomes quite clear that a brisk ten minute walk is going to take a whole lot longer–but that's only if he can get her out the door.

Saturday was bath day for Sadie; but when I tried to get her collar back on, it didn't fit. "How the hell could she even breathe with this thing on?" I wondered as I proceeded to loosen the strap another half-inch, but it wouldn't go on. "Sadie!" I laughed, "What have you been EATING?" I wrestled with her collar for a good five minutes before settling on a length that both allowed her to breathe and afforded me another two weeks without having to buy her a new one. Then I grabbed her leash and headed out the door. 

As we slowly made our way up the tiny hill near our house, I noticed that only one of us seemed to be moving. "Come ON!" I shouted, while tugging at her leash, "Let's GO!" But she was too busy sniffing the ground, looking for pecans that keep falling out of our tree. "Get that out of your mouth!" I demanded and continued to pull her uphill.

<<Crunch, crunch, crunch>>

By the time we got to the end of our street, she was ready to go home. And if it would have been up to my daughter, that's exactly what we would have done. "You guys are pathetic!" I laughed,"One just wants to watch TV, the other just wants to EAT it!" We continued to giggle at the sight of our pudgy little friend as she fought her way back to the house; and promised to get her back on a routine now that spring is in the air. But I have a strong feeling that our mandatory track meets are going to be met with much resistance and very little enthusiasm. 

I was thinking about making a Milk-Bone necklace so she'd chase me, but I'm scared of an attack.



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