Man's Weight Loss Secret 'Exposed'

WARNING: This Weight Loss System Only Works for Responsible People Who Are Not Lazy

Little did I know when I made the decision to keep a stray puppy who showed up at my medical equipment store and chased away my customers for four days that the decision would ultimately turn out to be among the best I've ever made - at least as it pertains to my own personal health and fitness.

The puppy, who appears to be some variation of a golden retriever mixed with chow, originally appeared during the heart of winter, antisocial and severely malnourished. She would not allow people to come within about 30 feet of her, but for whatever reason hung around the store, which is located along a very heavily trafficked thoroughfare in Covington, Louisiana.

It's a miracle that she wasn't killed by a passing vehicle during those days before I was able to catch her. Well, turned out she was a runaway, almost certainly due to abuse sufferd at the hands of her previous owner. Extremely skittish, while not aggressive, she would snap in defense when anyone made any attempt at touching her - particularly her head, neck and face.
This made her "unadoptable". The Humane Society wouldn't take her, and I refused to bring her to the pound because I know what they do to dogs there (they systematically and methodically kill them). Thus, I decided to take her home with me and work on establishing a bond of trust with her in hopes of taming her enough to find her a good home.
Well, she grew on me, as I did her. While she still has her moments, and is still hyper-sensitive to any agressive talk or movements, she's come an awful long way for a dog that everyone else had left for dead (with many advising me to bring her to the pound and let them murder her).
She's also had a bit of an unexpected impact on me personally, and my relative degree of health and fitness, to be specific. You see, I live in a condo with no backyard in suburban Long Beach, Mississippi. Dogs occasionally have to "go". In fact, for those dogs that reside primarily indoors, they must be walked several times a day, 4-5 at the absolute minimum. They also have what to humans seems like an infinite amount of energy to burn off, which lends to the walks being very fast-paced, occasionally graduating into outright jogging.
I moved to Long Beach about 8 weeks ago. Prior to that, I had lived in a rural community where the dog had plenty of green space to roam about as she saw fit without any leash or restraint. With the move, I had inadvertantly taken on the responsibility of walking and exercising the dog.
When I moved, my clothes also fit me --- quite well in fact. That has changed so much that this past weekend I came to grips with the reality that I'm going to have to buy an entire new wardrobe. While fishing in the surf along the Mississippi gulf coast on a beach that while not crowded, is frequented by enough people that it is by no means isolated, and certainly not private.
One can imagine the thoughts going through my head after wading out about 100 feet into water about 4-6 inches below waist-deep. The first real wave that came along brought the water level to my chest, and my bathing suit to my ankles. This was a bathing suit that had fit rather well when I first moved to the area, so I had no reason whatsoever to suspect that the weight from the water added to the suit itself as a result of being wet was sufficient to prevent the shorts from staying in place. It was so bad in-fact that I had to literally hold them up by grabbing the waistline of the shorts with my fist and holding it around my hips. Luckily, there were no children around to witness the traumatic spectable.
The worst part was the walk back. I had to carry two fishing poles, a large tackle box and an ice chest, having to pause every few steps to pull up my shorts before they fell too far.
While certainly not a pleasant experience (briefly losing my britches in plain view of everyone on the beach), and without a doubt anything but a pretty sight (at least for most), the flip-side is that I'm in the best shape now that I've been in since my early 20's, and I have my rescued dog to thank for it. All those walks, runs and jogs have definitely paid off in terms of my health.
Sure, she's put a pretty big drain on my wallet, but I'll gladly trade the money it costs to feed and care for her along with the cost of my new wardrobe, not to mention being put in a bit of a compromising position for the better part of an hour in exchange for peak fitness.
So, if you're struggling to lose weight or have a desire to lose weight, are a responsible and caring person, and are not inherently lazy, you may want to consider visiting your local animal shelter and adopting a dog. This goes for anyone, including both men and women experiencing weight gain - so long as the individual is responsible and motivated enough for such a long-term physical commitment.
A pet is a major responsibility, and is not right for everyone --- especially those with anger issues, who lack empathy or who are downright lazy, narcissistic or irresponsible. However, if you do qualify as someone suitable to become a pet-owner, a puppy can be a wonderful way to improve your quiality of life, a loyal companion whose love is truly unconditional, and on top of all of that a pretty darn good way to motivate oneself to exercise and lose weight.
It sure worked for me. Just ask everyone at the beach whose vision was forever scarred by an untimely wave that left no room for doubt that I am in fact in far better shape than I was two months ago, with at least four inches gone from my waste that had been there as recently as February.

Dog Swallows Fishing Hook, Survives

A recent fishing trip out on the Tchefuncte River in Covington, Louisiana nearly turned disastrous when my two year old male pit bull mix Tank found a jug from a previous fishing adventure that was attached to about three feet of twine with a #4 steel fishing hook at the end of it. The hook still had a dead, dried-up shrimp attached to it from a previous fishing trip that was somehow overlooked while cleaning out the boat.

Needless to say, the dog found the jug with the dried-up shrimp on the end of it and proceeded to swallow the shrimp (and the hook). A friend alerted me to the fact that my dog was trying to eat a fishing hook, but by the time either of us could maneuver our way to the opposite end of the boat (where the dog was stationed), he had already completely swallowed it and had moved on to swallowing the twine connecting the hook to the jug.

Fat Lester's Pit Bull Mix "Tank"

In a split-second decision, I decided against attempting to dislodge the hook, figuring that it would be better to have the hook loose in his stomach than stuck inside his throat or esophagus. He is a large dog (90 pounds or so), but it was a large hook, and the risk of exacerbating the problem only increased with the prospect of an amateur like myself attempting to dislodge a fishing hook from a dog's stomach.

Instead of trying to get the hook out, I immediately grabbed the jug and cut the twine where there was slack at the end nearest the jug so as to not tug on the twine and risk setting the hook inside my dog's stomach. From there, I rushed the boat back to the dock and immediately took the dog to the veterinary ER (emergency room) on Florida Street in Mandeville, Louisiana.

After admitting him to the doggie ER, the doctor proceeded to ask me for a full account of what happened, and I was more than willing to comply, providing her with every seemingly insignificant detail of the event. From there, she proceeded to x-ray Tank to confirm my statement that I was sure I had not inadvertently pulled the twine enough to set the hook inside the dog's body. Sure enough, by the good grace of God the hook was still in the dog's stomach.  It had not been set (piercing beyond the barb so as to lock the hook in place), and had not yet entered the animal's intestines. This, as luck would have it, would turn out to be his saving grace.

The fishing hook swallowed by Fat Lester's dog Tank

Because the hook was still loose inside the dog's stomach, the vet was confident enough about the situation to attempt an upper endoscopy to remove the hook. Given that the alternative was a pretty serious surgery to go in through the dog's belly, cut open his stomach and remove the hook, Tank's fate rested in the potential success or failure of the endoscopy procedure.

For anyone unfamiliar with the term, an endoscopy is a minimally invasive diagnostic procedure used to examine a patient's esophagus, stomach and duodenum using a thin, flexible tube known as an endoscope that can transmit images from inside the patient's body to a TV monitor for an up-close, zoomed-in view. The device can be equipped with additional devices that can do such things as grab or latch onto small objects inside the patient's upper GI (gastrointestinal) tract.

An endoscope is a piece of diagnostic medical equipment used to perform endoscopies (the procedure defined above involving the lowering of the flexible, camera-equipped tube into the patient's upper digestive tract).

Anyway, the doctor briefed me on the situation prior to attempting the procedure. She informed me that if unsuccessful, she would have to perform surgery in order to save the dog, and I granted her approval to take whatever necessary actions needed to be taken in order to save the dog. She assured me that she would not perform surgery unless the endoscopy procedure failed.

Much to my relief, about two hours after leaving the veterinary emergency clinic, I received a phone call from the vet stating that the procedure was a success, my dog was doing fine and was recovering, and that I could come by the next morning to pick him up and settle up on my bill, which came out to more than $1,300.00. She advised against going to pick him up that night, as he was fairly heavily sedated with buprenorphine and was better off spending the night under the supervision of caring animal health professionals in the event something should go wrong in the hours following the procedure.

We had no such bad luck, and the next morning at 9:00 I went back to the animal ER and picked up my dog, who by then had worked up quite an appetite and was extremely happy to see me.

Thanks Dr. Stockton for helping save my dog!

Dr. Donna Stockton: Veterinarian who saved Tank Dog