Thursday, November 17, 2016

We're On A Diet, Remember?

The fridge is closed.
Over the last few months I've watched the thingy on my scales continue to lean steadily to the right--sorta like what the country did in the last election. I can't say what the long term effect will have on the country because it's too soon to tell, but I can tell you that the immediate effects on me aren't pretty.

I've had some changes in my medication that may or may not have contributed to the extra pounds and I've been very lax with my diet. I'm no stranger to any of the restaurants in town...well, maybe the one that offers an all-you-can-eat salad bar (I stay away from that place.), but pizza, wings, and scattered and covered hash browns from Waffle House probably does have a lot to do with it.

Ten years ago I quit smoking and gained a lot of weight in a two-year period. I replaced one vice with another. I've lost half (had) of those extra pounds, but as the year has progressed, my progress has been slipping away-kinda like the progress of the last eight years--and my clothes are getting too tight to wear.

If I assessed myself a baggage fee for the extra poundage I'm transporting right now, I'd have a nice bank roll to spend on my upcoming trip to Vegas.

But, what really made me stand up and pay attention was when my boy, Ralphie, began having problems jumping. He's always been "built like a brick shit house" as we like to say in my family which translates to "solid, stout and muscular with a few rolls that jiggle when you run."

We hopped on the scales and sure enough, Ralphie was about two pounds over his normal weight. Every time I go to the refrigerator for a snack, he does too, and if I don't give him something he will meow for the next half hour. Loudly. And I'm not kidding.

I've examined his back legs thoroughly and spoken with the vet. It could be age (I think he's about 9 or 10). I mentioned the extra weight and they recommended to scale back on his food to see if he might lose those two extra pounds.

A few days passed and each time I went to the fridge, Ralphie would stare at me and wait for his snack. After a few times of not receiving anything and voicing his displeasure, he stopped meowing and looked at me just like the picture above.

It took me a while, but I finally got it.

No snacks for Ralphie means no snacks for me.

I decided not to wait until the New Year because the upcoming season of gluttony is almost upon us. I'm sure I could've added a few more pounds and the extra fees would've been good for my bank roll, but the extra rolls on me and Ralphie are bad for our health.

It's early in our journey and I'll be sure to keep you posted. I'll enjoy this Thanksgiving a bit more sensibly, and so will Ralphie, but until then, the fridge is closed.

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