Americans have heard for years about how fat we're all getting. But there's another health crisis that has flown below the radar. At least until now.
Apparently, it's not just humans whose waistlines are expanding at an alarming rate. Our dogs are packing on the pounds, too.
We're raising a nation of fat foxhounds, pudgy poodles and chunky chows. According to the Chicago Tribune, as many as 40 percent of America's pet dogs (about 17 million) are getting way too thick around the middle. Our best friends are tubbing out all over the place and it's affecting their health.
Now, though, there's a solution. And it's nothing unpleasant like taking our dogs for regular walks or resisting the urge to feed them treats by the shovelful. It's the kind of level-headed, minimal-effort solution any red-blooded America-loving dog owner looks for when it comes time to lose weight: diet drugs.
That's right. We're getting doggy diet pills. Pfizer, the company that brought us Viagra, recently received FDA approval for something called Slentrol, which it advertises as the first and only diet drug for dogs. Just pour the liquid on Fido's food or give it to him directly and watch the pounds melt away. All for no more than $1.50 per day.
Just make sure you give him the right drug, or you might never get him off your leg.
Somehow, it seems like there should be a simpler solution here. Something like taking the dog outside to play every once in a while. Maybe throwing a ball for it to chase. Or just not feeding Spot heaping bowls of food every day — all solutions, I might point out, that are completely free.
Supporters of the drug, though, claim Americans are far too busy these days to take their dogs for regular walks. We lead hectic lives. We have places to go, people to see. Sometimes ol' Rover has to take a back seat.
I don't know. In a world where millions of people watch The War at Home every week and movies like Little Man make more than $100 million at the box office I have trouble believing we can't squeeze in a half hour for a quick walk. Bonus: maybe that even helps with the whole "Fat Americans" thing.
In many cases, though, dogs have become so much like a member of the family people just can't resist spoiling them. One vet quoted in the Tribune's story claims some of her patients regularly drive their dogs to McDonald's or Burger King for a burger or an ice cream cone. She doesn't say whether they supersize the meals, but I'm guessing yes.
And that's not all. I used to live down the block from a bakery that sold nothing but treats for dogs. I've seen doggy-sized staircases designed so our pets don't even have to exert themselves enough to jump on the couch. And it is now possible to buy at least two different brands of beer for dogs.
That last one surprised me a little. I stumbled across the first doggie suds — a Dutch pet shop owner's concoction, called Kwispelbier — while I was writing this. Then, as I tried to find that story again, I came across Happy Tail Ale. Both dog beers are non-alcoholic. Both appear to be essentially meat-flavored water. If you're interested, you can order a sixer of the Happy Tail brand on sale from Petco.com for just $18 plus shipping. That's a little more than $3 a bottle, or roughly $32 per gallon.
So there's Slentrol, which seems to work pretty darn well. According to Pfizer's four-month study of the drug, 97 percent of 144 dogs lost weight on Slentrol and half lost 11 percent or more of their body weight.
Side effects? According to a Pfizer press release cited by the Tribune vomiting is the most common. Also possible: diarrhea, lethargy and anorexia. So, your dog will be thin but lazy and your carpets will be a mess. Also, Lassie will develop the same body-image problems as a runway model. Seems like a fair trade.
Anything to avoid that walk in the park.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Friday, January 12, 2007
Dear curb: You're a jerk!
Dear curb that, like, totally messed up the front end of my car,
Seriously, curb, what was that about? I wasn't bothering you. I would have been perfectly happy never coming into contact with you. All I wanted to do was take a picture and get to work so I could finish laying out the paper.
But you couldn't let me do that, could you? For whatever reason, you needed to mess up my poor car's undercarriage. You had to jam my front wheel all the way back into the back of the wheel well.
Way to go, tough guy. Everybody's real impressed.
Do you know what you did to me? I had to wait almost an hour for a tow truck. It cost me $90 to get towed to a repair shop. And getting the car fixed? Near as I can figure the estimate's somewhere over two grand now.
That's not even all. My mom was out of town while my car was in the shop, so I figured I'd borrow her car and save on a rental. Except, her car started acting up on me mid-week. It stalled. It hesitated. Sometimes, I'd step on the gas and get no acceleration. Nothin'. I wasn't sure I was going to make it through the week.
So, yeah. Thanks a lot.
Jerk.
What did I ever do to you, curb? I've always had all kinds of respect for concrete. I use sidewalks every day. And when I was younger, concrete always did an admirable job holding my basketball poles upright. It's one of my favorite construction materials, right after steel and plexiglass and just ahead of fiberboard. That ain't bad. You're way better than aluminum siding.
I like you, curb. You do a good job of defining the edge of the street. So how about returning the favor, huh? You had to mangle my wheel like that? You couldn't just boost me up and over yourself? Apparently not. Apparently that's too much to ask. So now I have a repaired front end and the only thing you ended up with was a little scuff where my tire hit you. It's probably even washed away by now.
I suppose you'll try to blame all this on the ice. And sure, it was slippery. But I didn't have any problems until I ran into you. Ice and I are close, curb. Ice and I understand each other. Ice keeps my drinks cold and I don't mess with ice. I don't drill holes in ice to fish anymore (not a big sacrifice, I'll admit) and I've pretty much given up skating. Me and ice, we're cool, so stop trying to badmouth ice.
It sure as heck wasn't my fault. Like I'd do that to my own car? I'm still paying for it, man. I was driving safely, curb. Get over it.
This isn't the first time I've had a run-in with your kind, curb. I was a junior in high school, an exchange student in Sweden, when I tried to jump my bike from the street to the sidewalk, up and over one of your foreign brothers. I admit it was a bad idea, but did it have to take me down like that? I got scraped up pretty good.
More recently, I was riding across the Stone Arch Bridge in Minneapolis a few years ago when a little lip at the edge of the bike path took me out. I ended up hanging by one arm from the railing. I could have gone over. I could have been seriously hurt, curb. As it was I got bruised all up and down my right side.
I know that little lip wasn't really a curb, curb. But it's close enough. It's the same obnoxious family.
I don't know why you did what you did, curb. Did it make you feel tough? Do you feel like a big curb now? Well, good for you. I'm sure you spent the rest of the week bragging to all your curb friends.
I hope it was worth it, curb. Because you and me, we're through.
Yours,
Nathan Hansen
Seriously, curb, what was that about? I wasn't bothering you. I would have been perfectly happy never coming into contact with you. All I wanted to do was take a picture and get to work so I could finish laying out the paper.
But you couldn't let me do that, could you? For whatever reason, you needed to mess up my poor car's undercarriage. You had to jam my front wheel all the way back into the back of the wheel well.
Way to go, tough guy. Everybody's real impressed.
Do you know what you did to me? I had to wait almost an hour for a tow truck. It cost me $90 to get towed to a repair shop. And getting the car fixed? Near as I can figure the estimate's somewhere over two grand now.
That's not even all. My mom was out of town while my car was in the shop, so I figured I'd borrow her car and save on a rental. Except, her car started acting up on me mid-week. It stalled. It hesitated. Sometimes, I'd step on the gas and get no acceleration. Nothin'. I wasn't sure I was going to make it through the week.
So, yeah. Thanks a lot.
Jerk.
What did I ever do to you, curb? I've always had all kinds of respect for concrete. I use sidewalks every day. And when I was younger, concrete always did an admirable job holding my basketball poles upright. It's one of my favorite construction materials, right after steel and plexiglass and just ahead of fiberboard. That ain't bad. You're way better than aluminum siding.
I like you, curb. You do a good job of defining the edge of the street. So how about returning the favor, huh? You had to mangle my wheel like that? You couldn't just boost me up and over yourself? Apparently not. Apparently that's too much to ask. So now I have a repaired front end and the only thing you ended up with was a little scuff where my tire hit you. It's probably even washed away by now.
I suppose you'll try to blame all this on the ice. And sure, it was slippery. But I didn't have any problems until I ran into you. Ice and I are close, curb. Ice and I understand each other. Ice keeps my drinks cold and I don't mess with ice. I don't drill holes in ice to fish anymore (not a big sacrifice, I'll admit) and I've pretty much given up skating. Me and ice, we're cool, so stop trying to badmouth ice.
It sure as heck wasn't my fault. Like I'd do that to my own car? I'm still paying for it, man. I was driving safely, curb. Get over it.
This isn't the first time I've had a run-in with your kind, curb. I was a junior in high school, an exchange student in Sweden, when I tried to jump my bike from the street to the sidewalk, up and over one of your foreign brothers. I admit it was a bad idea, but did it have to take me down like that? I got scraped up pretty good.
More recently, I was riding across the Stone Arch Bridge in Minneapolis a few years ago when a little lip at the edge of the bike path took me out. I ended up hanging by one arm from the railing. I could have gone over. I could have been seriously hurt, curb. As it was I got bruised all up and down my right side.
I know that little lip wasn't really a curb, curb. But it's close enough. It's the same obnoxious family.
I don't know why you did what you did, curb. Did it make you feel tough? Do you feel like a big curb now? Well, good for you. I'm sure you spent the rest of the week bragging to all your curb friends.
I hope it was worth it, curb. Because you and me, we're through.
Yours,
Nathan Hansen
Facing the new year with resolve
I've never been big on New Year's resolutions. Maybe it's because I'm uncomfortable making out life-altering to-do lists on a night that has a well-earned reputation for heavy alcohol consumption. Maybe I'm not organized enough to figure out my goals for an entire year before that year has even begun. Or maybe I've always just believed I'm so perfect already no resolution could make me any better.
Well, except maybe that one resolution I made a couple of years ago to be more in touch with reality.
Whatever the reason, I have always entered the new year resolutionless. Adrift and without a list of hastily-scribbled, poorly-defined goals that I could halfheartedly follow for a couple of months and then abandon when I got tired of them.
Hey, I've been to Lifetime Fitness. I see the way the parking lot starts filling up this time of year. I've also seen it get less busy sometime around early March as thousands of resolution breakers settle into their easy chairs with bags of Cool Ranch Doritos.
This year, though, that changes. I figure it’s time to try something new. So, in no particular order, here are Nathan Hansen's New Year's resolutions for 2007.
• I resolve to breathe some fresh life into this column: People tell me they enjoy reading this column. They tell me I make them laugh. From time to time they question my sanity. All of this is good. But it could be better. For 2007 I pledge to shake things up. No more tired old jokes about about bad movies or C-list celebrities or Britney Spears getting photographed without any underpants. I resolve to find all new jokes about bad movies, C-list celebrities and dirty pictures of former Mickey Mouse Club members.
I'm looking at you, Christina Aguilerra.
• I resolve to make this column more local. One of the things we hang our hats on at the Town Pages is putting out a paper that is almost exclusively about Rosemount. Some Dakota County news sneaks in from time to time, but mostly it's about Rosemount people doing things in Rosemount.
Things are a little different with this column. Because we publish two papers from this office and this column runs in both, writing about something specific to one city means I can't run the column in the other paper. That would double my column workload. And that would mean an extra 10, 15 minutes a week. As a consequence, there is rarely much local flavor in the column. That changes this year, though. For example, how about that sports/academic competition team from the local high school? Can you believe how well/poorly they've done so far this year? It sure is impressive/embarrassing.
See, I think that adds something.
• I resolve to write more about the adventures of Bob Corn and his unending fight against the killer zucchini.
• I resolve to make fewer jokes that only my freshman year college roommate would get.
• I resolve to stop letting people know my freshman year college roommate and I had conversations about things like organized hunts for killer zucchini. It might make us sound kind of dorky.
• I resolve to write something that will really mortify my mom. I'm not sure yet what it will be, although she's been out of town since I published last week's Christmas music column so I might be able to check that one off.
• I resolve to clean up the spelling and grammar in this column. My dad tells me he finds some kind of error in this column nearly every week. That doesn't reflect well on me, and I promise to fix that. Failing that, I resolve to find a way to blame someone else.
• I resolve to do everything I can to make this newspaper something all Rosemount residents can enjoy. I know there are interesting stories out there about Rosemount residents and I want to find them. I resolve to find interesting ways to tell the stories that might not otherwise capture people's attention. Rosemount is a great city, and it deserves a great newspaper.
No, seriously.
Now, where are my Doritos?
Well, except maybe that one resolution I made a couple of years ago to be more in touch with reality.
Whatever the reason, I have always entered the new year resolutionless. Adrift and without a list of hastily-scribbled, poorly-defined goals that I could halfheartedly follow for a couple of months and then abandon when I got tired of them.
Hey, I've been to Lifetime Fitness. I see the way the parking lot starts filling up this time of year. I've also seen it get less busy sometime around early March as thousands of resolution breakers settle into their easy chairs with bags of Cool Ranch Doritos.
This year, though, that changes. I figure it’s time to try something new. So, in no particular order, here are Nathan Hansen's New Year's resolutions for 2007.
• I resolve to breathe some fresh life into this column: People tell me they enjoy reading this column. They tell me I make them laugh. From time to time they question my sanity. All of this is good. But it could be better. For 2007 I pledge to shake things up. No more tired old jokes about about bad movies or C-list celebrities or Britney Spears getting photographed without any underpants. I resolve to find all new jokes about bad movies, C-list celebrities and dirty pictures of former Mickey Mouse Club members.
I'm looking at you, Christina Aguilerra.
• I resolve to make this column more local. One of the things we hang our hats on at the Town Pages is putting out a paper that is almost exclusively about Rosemount. Some Dakota County news sneaks in from time to time, but mostly it's about Rosemount people doing things in Rosemount.
Things are a little different with this column. Because we publish two papers from this office and this column runs in both, writing about something specific to one city means I can't run the column in the other paper. That would double my column workload. And that would mean an extra 10, 15 minutes a week. As a consequence, there is rarely much local flavor in the column. That changes this year, though. For example, how about that sports/academic competition team from the local high school? Can you believe how well/poorly they've done so far this year? It sure is impressive/embarrassing.
See, I think that adds something.
• I resolve to write more about the adventures of Bob Corn and his unending fight against the killer zucchini.
• I resolve to make fewer jokes that only my freshman year college roommate would get.
• I resolve to stop letting people know my freshman year college roommate and I had conversations about things like organized hunts for killer zucchini. It might make us sound kind of dorky.
• I resolve to write something that will really mortify my mom. I'm not sure yet what it will be, although she's been out of town since I published last week's Christmas music column so I might be able to check that one off.
• I resolve to clean up the spelling and grammar in this column. My dad tells me he finds some kind of error in this column nearly every week. That doesn't reflect well on me, and I promise to fix that. Failing that, I resolve to find a way to blame someone else.
• I resolve to do everything I can to make this newspaper something all Rosemount residents can enjoy. I know there are interesting stories out there about Rosemount residents and I want to find them. I resolve to find interesting ways to tell the stories that might not otherwise capture people's attention. Rosemount is a great city, and it deserves a great newspaper.
No, seriously.
Now, where are my Doritos?
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