Sixty percent. That's how many US dogs are overweight or obese. You've probably heard that number before. It's been floating around for years.
But here's the number that really gets me: 32 percent of owners with overweight dogs think their dog is a normal weight.
Almost one in three people look at their fat dog and see a healthy one.
I see this every week. A client comes in with a dog that has no waist, ribs you can't feel without digging, and a waddle instead of a walk. The client says, "He's just big-boned."
There's no such thing as big-boned in dogs. There's fat. There's muscle. There's skeleton. That's it. The skeleton doesn't get wider without fat around it.
Why don't owners see it? Two reasons.
First, we've lost our reference point. Every other dog at the dog park is also overweight. When obesity is the norm, a slightly overweight dog looks "average." A dog at an ideal body condition — visible waist, ribs you can feel — looks "too thin" to people who are used to seeing fat dogs.
Second, weight gain is gradual. You don't notice the extra quarter-pound per month until suddenly your dog has gained 12 pounds and you have no idea when it happened. It's like watching a child grow — you don't see it day to day, but the photos don't lie.
I had a client named Robert. He brought in his 8-year-old Lab, Max. Max was 95 pounds. He should have been 75. Robert was shocked when I told him Max was obese. "He's always been this size," Robert said. I pulled up Max's chart. Five years ago: 78 pounds. Three years ago: 85 pounds. Last year: 92 pounds. This year: 95 pounds. Robert stared at the numbers. "I didn't notice," he said. "I see him every day."
That's the problem. You see them every day. The change is invisible to you. But it's visible to the scale. It's visible to the vet. And it's visible to the dog's joints, heart, and lifespan.
Max developed arthritis at 9. He had trouble climbing stairs. He couldn't jump in the car. He died at 11, which is young for a Lab. Robert called me after Max passed. "I wish I had listened," he said. "I wish I had seen it."
So here's my challenge to you. Weigh your dog this week. Not with your arms. With a scale. Compare it to their weight from last year. From two years ago. If it's going up, even slowly, it's a problem. Because 60 percent of dogs are overweight. And 32 percent of owners don't know it. Don't be one of them.
—Megan (currently on my third cup of coffee because writing this made me tired)
Let me tell you about the dog park illusion. I see it every weekend at Gabriel Park in Portland. Twenty dogs running around. And maybe three of them are at a healthy weight. The rest? Overweight. Some mildly. Some severely. But to their owners, they all look "normal." Because when everyone is overweight, no one is.
I had a client named Stephanie. She brought in her 50-pound beagle, Buddy. Buddy was 12 pounds overweight. Stephanie was shocked when I told her. "But he looks like every other beagle at the park," she said. And she was right. Every other beagle at the park was also overweight. They had normalized obesity.
We put Buddy on a diet. Measured meals. No free feeding. Limited treats. He lost 10 pounds in 8 months. Stephanie took him back to the park. Another owner asked, "Is Buddy sick? He looks so thin." Stephanie laughed. "He's not thin," she said. "He's healthy. Your dog is overweight." The other owner was offended. But Stephanie didn't care. She had seen the numbers. She had seen Buddy run without wheezing. She had seen him jump on the bed without help. And she knew the truth.
The truth is, we have a cultural problem. We equate food with love. We think a fat dog is a happy dog. We think restricting food is cruel. We think "he's just big-boned" is a valid excuse. And the pet food industry encourages this. They sell us "treats" and "chews" and "toppers" and "gravy" because they know we'll buy them. Because we want to make our dogs happy. And we think food is the way.
But food isn't love. Attention is love. Walks are love. Play is love. Training is love. Food is just fuel. And when we give too much fuel, we don't love our dogs. We hurt them. We shorten their lives. We cause them pain. And we do it with the best intentions.
So weigh your dog. Look at the chart. Compare to last year. If the number is going up, do something. Measure their food. Cut the treats. Add a walk. It doesn't have to be dramatic. It just has to be consistent. Because 60 percent of dogs are overweight. And 32 percent of owners don't know it. Don't be one of them. Be the one who sees. Be the one who acts. Be the one who gives their dog the gift of a healthy weight. That's real love.
—Megan (currently on my third cup of coffee because writing this made me tired)
Let me tell you about the dog show that changed my perspective. I went to a conformation show last year. Not my usual scene — I'm more of a "mutts at the dog park" person. But I wanted to see what healthy dogs looked like. Real healthy dogs. Not "my vet says he's fine" healthy. Not "he's just big-boned" healthy. Actually healthy.
I was shocked. The dogs were lean. Not thin. Lean. You could see their waists. You could feel their ribs without digging. They moved like athletes. They had energy. They had muscle. They looked like dogs are supposed to look.
And then I went to the dog park the next day. And I saw the contrast. Dog after dog with no waist. Dog after dog with ribs buried under fat. Dog after dog waddling instead of running. And every owner saying, "He's just a little chunky."
That's the problem. We've forgotten what healthy looks like. We've normalized obesity. We've convinced ourselves that fat is normal. And our dogs are paying the price.
A study from 2022 found that overweight dogs live 2.5 years less than lean dogs. Two and a half years. That's 15-20 percent of a dog's life. Gone. Because of extra weight. Because of extra treats. Because of "just a little bit." Because of "he's just big-boned."
So here's my challenge. Next time you're at the dog park, look around. Really look. Count the dogs with visible waists. Count the dogs with ribs you could feel. I'll bet it's less than 20 percent. And then look at your own dog. Feel their ribs. Look at their waist. Check their weight against last year. If the number is going up, do something. Because 60 percent of dogs are overweight. And 32 percent of owners don't know it. Don't be one of them. Be the one who sees. Be the one who acts. Be the one who gives their dog the gift of a healthy weight. That's real love. That's real care. And it starts with looking. Really looking.
—Megan (currently on my third cup of coffee because writing this made me tired)
