I can’t tell you how many people have told me, “This dog is ___ pounds, solid, not an ounce of fat!” But when I see the dog, I think, “Hello Tubby!” Everyone’s got their own idea of what “fat” dog is.
In Jonesy’s prime he was jacked. Weighing all parameters, I’d stack him against most other dogs. In this photo he was 65 pounds – would’ve been 80 belonging to a run-of-the-mill civilian.
In those days neither of us was handicapped so we ran and biked. He pulled weight once per week, ran cliff sprints once per week and did endurance runs twice per week. Sundays were “performance day” with him pulling me on Rollerblades for 21 miles.
For all that, he had hip dysplasia. He loved to run and could still do 9 miles when he was 11 years old. His one passion cut short was playing fetch as stopping, turning and sprinting were particularly hard on his hips. He also began to dislike swimming. I always let him decide what we’d do and set the pace.
I put him down at 16 as he’d been suffering.
Through his thick fur you could feel his ribs and, for his size, his forearms were massive. He just came out of the water in the blurry photo below. You can see how tightly wasp-waisted he was. His thighs were so thick, despite his super-lean state, that I couldn’t span them with my hands. His thighs were similar in circumference to his waist. That folks, is a trained dog… solid, not an ounce of fat – for real.