Friday, August 6, 2010

Why being fat sucks #2

I was a dog groomer and trainer in a previous life. 17 years working with dogs and being very active in various canine sports (obedience, herding, agility, tracking, etc.). Then I got RSI in both shoulders (not uncommon for groomers -- all that twisting, bending, lifting, pretzeling we're constantly doing) and had to change income-generating tactics. That's when I trotted off to college and discovered my inner nerd.

Not long after that I ended up getting married to the man I thought was the love of my life. I was willing to overlook the fact that he'd never had dogs before because he got along extremely well with my Border Collie. I didn't foresee that he would be adamant about not getting another when Scott died at the age of 16, or that I'd be so pathetically determined to keep our marriage together that I'd willingly comply. For the first time ever in my life I found myself without a dog. And with a husband who genuinely didn't understand why that would bother me. I felt incomplete. Still do.

Okay, long story short (too late, I know). I left the husband two years ago. Finalized the divorce and bought a house a year ago. Was losing weight and getting the house ready for a dog (there was a LOT to be done before I could bring a pup in) when I was sideswiped last October by an unexpected surgery. The healing went horribly wrong and I was on the sofa for 6 weeks, sleeping and comfort-eating. Fell into bad habits and put all the weight back on over the winter.

The house is finally nearly ready. The new fence around my back yard was just finished last week. But I'm so badly out of shape that I can't even imagine trying to keep up with an energetic pup. Carry it outside to go to the bathroom, take it for walks, take it out to the park to socialize, train it. Just trying to get the house organized and puppy-proofed is a daunting task at this weight.

I want a dog. Badly. But my body can't do it.

I suppose there's an obvious solution, eh?

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