You’re not supposed to play tug-of-war with your dog. Don’t ask me why. I heard someone say it once – probably the Dog Whisperer. Or maybe it was a nun. They tend to give frequent mandates on avoiding any type of fun.
Other than snoring and farting, tug-of-war is the only thing Wonderbutt loves to do for an extended period of time. Since he needs to lose 1/3 of his body weight just to be considered “slightly rotund,” I feel like the least we can do is let him spend twenty minutes a day on his favorite form of exercise.
Lately, Wonderbutt has begun to confuse my exercise time with his exercise time. Now, as soon as I am five minutes into doing Tae Bo, Wonderbutt wakes up from a heavy snore, and races into the bedroom, completely ready to exercise too. His way of communicating that he is eager for action is to try to hump my leg as soon as I fling it out for a Tae Bo side-kick. When I finally shake him off, he looks momentarily confused, then leaps onto his rope toy and pitches it into my face just in case I have any doubts as to his intentions. (Which I kind of do, since he was just trying to hump me.)
Wonderbutt is not a fetch dog. He wants to be chased, and if you don’t feel like playing that game, then he wants nothing to do with you; he will forlornly drag his rope toy back to his bed, and put his head on his paws, sighing in disappointment at your laziness. Or, you can get down on the floor and start growling at him. Then he is more than happy to prance over to you with his toy, dangling it in your face, leaping backwards every time you reach for the rope, and growling viciously. So, by now, you’ve broken about 100 Dog Whisperer rules, including putting yourself on the same level as the dog, sticking your face in his, and encouraging him to growl at you.
But the dog is exercising.
For the most part.
The only part of Wonderbutt’s body that never gets fatigued is his jaw. After about three minutes of tug-of-war, the rest of his body gives out. Then, he clamps down on that rope for dear life while I drag him throughout the house, which is a bit rough on the carpeting, but works quite well on the concrete floors in the living room. (I am seriously considering attaching Swiffer Dusters to his sides.)
After being dragged for a couple of minutes, Wonderbutt gets his second wind (after releasing four or five of his own), and leaps back to his feet to resume play.
I started to complain about Wonderbutt regularly interrupting my Tae Bo – until I realized that I couldn’t catch my breath the last time I played tug-of-war with him.
I thought I was doing him a favor, but wouldn’t it be funny if he thinks he’s the one helping me out?
In two more days and a few hours, Americans all over the globe will be stuffing themselves silly and giving thanks every time their quarterbacks make a home run. (Okay, I might have mixed that up a bit; maybe it’s the quarterbacks who get stuffed and the rest of us run home.) In honor of the misery and regret that all Thanksgiving revelers will be feeling on Friday morning, I would like to offer you the Wonderbutt Workout program. (Note that Wonderbutt is not the one who is actually working out in this video. In fact, he seems to have gained a few pounds ever since he started implementing this exercise routine.)
Sorry about the abrupt ending, but at least you got a chance to hear the Delightful Giggle of Dimples in between Wonderbutt’s Completely Innocuous Snarls.
Now, I know that some of you might be concerned about the scarcity of the necessary equipment for embarking on this workout journey – namely, Wonderbutt – but I can assure you that if you tie a rope to your sofa and drag it across the floor, you will achieve the same results. Even better, pick the sofa that has your Uncle Krackpot still snoring on it, passed out from his 24-hour eating binge, and you will probably duplicate the Wonderbutt Workout experience quite perfectly.
My daughter, Dimples, had the bright idea of bringing an inflated exercise ball into the living room from the garage to see how our bulldog, Wonderbutt, would react. She predicted that we would want to videotape it, and she was right. We finally found a ball that is just the right size for Wonderbutt. Of course he had to use it to careen right into Mrs. P.I.B., our long-suffering golden retriever…
The oldest piece of clothing that I own, and still wear occasionally, is a pair of shorts that I don whenever I am painting. Every once in awhile, I throw them on even if I’m not painting, because I might be a bit behind in laundry. Yesterday was one of those days. For some reason, I got the lame-brain idea that it might be fun to take the Dog Who Poops as he Walks out for a spin around the block, and those shorts were the only pair that were not in the hamper. In retrospect, I’m not sure why I cared if I was wearing clean shorts or not, considering the fact that I spent 3/4 of the walk carrying a hefty bag of stinky dog poop.
Those shorts are a size 10. I hadn’t worn them in a few months, and I was a more than a little discombobulated by the fact that they suddenly seemed to be tight around the waist. I will be the first to admit that I’ve gained some weight. But not enough to pop a button in size 10 shorts. There was no denying, though, that I felt like there was a boa constrictor wrapped around my stomach when I was finally able to fasten them. According to Painter Shorts, I need to be doing a lot more strolls with the Dog Who Poops as He Walks before I turn into the Girl Who Rolls Down the Street.
My size 2 skirt, purchased 2 days ago, begs to differ. According to that hot little number, I have nothing to be concerned about. I should be strutting my stuff more often just to give other people the opportunity to feast their eyes on my lean, slender physique. The Dog Who Poops as He Walks should be grateful that he is accompanied by the Girl Who Struts Beside Him with Plastic Grocery Bags.
This is what we’ve come to, my friends, a 43-year old body that, ON THE SAME DAY, fits into 2 sizes that should be as far away from each other as Obama and Romney. No wonder we all have distorted self-images.
Painter Shorts tells me, “This is what happens when you get too big for your britches. Now, let’s do something before you burst.”
Hot Number Skirt flatters me, makes me feel like a cover model, and pooh-poohs the idea that I might need to cut back a little on the carbs. It also tells me to ignore the fact that there are Size 00 and Size 000 skirts on the racks that raise their eyebrows in alarm if I even dare to take a peek at their tags.
I’m pretty sure I’m not fat. And I’m very sure I’m not thin. I suspect, despite the size 2’s in my closet, that I am somewhere in between.
What would happen, do you think, if we stopped putting sizes on clothing – just stuck them on the rack from smallest to biggest, and shopped for the size that looked like it would fit (instead of the size we hoped or thought would fit)? Should we start a Size Revolution now, or just wait until the first day we spot a size -1 on the rack?
A note of warning: If you are going to include the words “Weight Loss Program” in your manuscript, and then try to e-mail it to yourself three times from your iPad, and wonder where the e-mails keep going, try your Junk Mail folder. Apparently, I spammed myself.
Wonderbutt was told he needed to lose at least five pounds. After the disappointing lack of response to our application for The Biggest Loser, we took matters into our hands. We (I) instituted a practical change in life style: eat less food, get more exercise.
Because you are such a close friend, I would like to share the secrets to this successful program with you.
A typical day in the Wonderbutt Program:
Breakfast – 1 cup of delicious dog nuggets
Lunch – nothing
Dinner – another cup of delicious dog nuggets (I know they are delicious because I tried one.)
As everyone knows, no weight loss program is complete without the implementation of exercise.
Exercise – Dimples and I take Wonderbutt and Mrs. P.I.B. for a walk. Mrs. P.I.B. has longer legs, so she ends up ahead. Wonderbutt does not want Mrs. P.I.B. to get anywhere before he does. He has no idea where we are going, but he is going to get there first, no matter what.
Wonderbutt pulls my shoulder out of its socket.
I shift hands, yank Wonderbutt back and simultaneously pop my shoulder back in. I do what our dog/human trainer taught me and turn around, so Wonderbutt has to follow me going in a different direction. Since this is the opposite direction of Mrs. P.I.B., Wonderbutt is suddenly less enthusiastic about pulling me, and decides it’s my turn to pull. But I am the leader of this pack. So I make the rules.
I turn back around. For about 10 seconds, Wonderbutt is by my side. This triggers another lesson I learned from Puppy Kindergarten – bribery. I reward Wonderbutt with a small treat.
We repeat the process. By the time we return home, my arm has popped out of its socket 15 times, and Wonderbutt has had 30,000 “small” treats.
End of the week – Wonderbutt has gained 5 pounds from all of the treats and I’ve gained 5 from all of the stress eating I do when we return from each walk.
So, there you have it – our soon-to-be-award-winning-record-breaking-money-making Wonderbutt Weight Loss Program. Follow the above guidelines, and you, too, can have a Wondrous Butt like me.
Dear Biggest Loser Production Team,
Please consider Wonderbutt for participation in the next season of your show. He weighs 65 pounds, which is quite disproportionate to his approximately 2.5 feet of length. According to his doctor, he must lose 10 pounds. I know that your website mentions a requirement that applicants must need to lose at least 85 pounds, but I think it would be more fair to use percentages since this criteria clearly discriminates against body types that are vertically challenged.
One of Wonderbutt’s greatest qualities is that he is open to new exercise routines, such as swimming. He has even gotten involved in your Biggest Loser Kinect game. Well, he kept walking in front of the camera while Dimples was trying to play, but he obviously was motivated to participate. Or to trip her. It’s hard to tell what his agenda is sometimes, but doesn’t that usually make for great television?
I understand that your show involves an elimination process. Wonderbutt is actually quite fond of eliminating, which is another reason he is uniquely qualified to be a member of your new Loser team. Please don’t let the fact that he likes to determine where and when the elimination takes place deter you from selecting him. You may want to avoid riding in a car with him if you have recently ticked him off, though.
Given Wonderbutt’s contempt for fashion, your wardrobe budget would be cut by 1/12th if he were to appear on your show. Unless the other members of the cast are careless enough to leave their clothing on the floor. In which case you might need to double the budget. It could go either way.
You will not need to worry about Wonderbutt revealing any secrets from the show or bad-mouthing the trainers. Unless bad-mouthing is a new term for licking them obsessively.
Wonderbutt is used to getting along with diverse housemates. He is non-judgmental of those who are different from him, including snakes and his current roommate, Mrs. Pain In the Butt. He may have a tendency to hurl himself into the other cast members’ genitals, but this is just his way of being affectionate.
In conclusion, I think Wonderbutt would be the perfect candidate for your next crop of twelve Losers. He will blow you away with his dedication to this weight-loss challenge. Or, he might just blow you away. His digestive problems make him great at clearing a room.