Eight-year-old chocolate labrador Blue is shaped like a barrel and has a slow, lumbering gait. Rolls of fat bulge from his collar; his belly hangs low, skimming the ground. Mournful eyes look out from a jowly face. Blue is on a diet, you see, and he’s hating every minute of it. No more juicy rabbit ears or plump chicken feet. He sneaked some cake earlier in the week from the kitchen floor, but his owner, Mary, got it away before he could finish it.
“I hate this bit,” groans Mary*, as Blue thunks on to the scales at the Pet Health and Therapy Centre in Welling, south-east London. “It’s like Weight Watchers.” Ideally, Blue should weigh no more than 36kg. The scales creak: 47.1kg. “He’s gone up again,” sighs Mary, who has requested anonymity because she is embarrassed. “My son and daughter are really skinny,” she says in a pleading tone. “People think I starve my children but overfeed my animals.”
