It's dark at 4:30 PM. It's raining. Again. The trails at Forest Park are a mud pit. And your dog is looking at you like, "Really? Outside?"
This is Portland winter. And it's why so many dogs gain weight between November and March. Not because their owners are lazy. Not because their owners don't care. Because Portland winter is a hostile environment for dog exercise. And because we, as owners, adapt to the darkness and the rain and the mud by staying inside. And our dogs adapt by gaining weight.
I see it every spring. Clients come in with dogs that have gained 3-5 pounds over the winter. "I don't know what happened," they say. "We were doing so well in the fall." I know what happened. The clocks changed. The sun disappeared. The rain started. The walks got shorter. The trips to the dog park stopped. And the food stayed the same. Or increased. Because "it's cold, they need more calories." No. They don't. They need fewer calories. Because they're moving less. Because they're burning less. Because they're sleeping more. Because it's winter.
I had a client named Jennifer. She had a 50-pound Lab named Cooper. Cooper gained 8 pounds last winter. Jennifer was devastated. "We walk every day," she said. "Even in the rain." I asked her to show me her walk log. She didn't have one. But she estimated. "About 30 minutes," she said. "Same as summer."
I asked her to time it. She did. It was 12 minutes. Not 30. Twelve. Because it was dark. Because it was raining. Because she was cold. Because Cooper was dragging. Because neither of them wanted to be outside. So they cut it short. And they didn't even realize. Because 12 minutes felt like 30 when you were miserable.
And the food? Same. Two cups per day. Same as summer. When Cooper was walking 60 minutes and playing at the dog park and swimming in the river. Now he was walking 12 minutes and sleeping 18 hours. And eating the same. Of course he gained weight. He was eating summer calories on a winter schedule.
We made two changes. One: reduce food by 10 percent in winter. Not dramatic. Just 10 percent. Two: find indoor exercise. Not walks. Not dog parks. Indoor exercise. Fetch in the hallway. Tug-of-war in the living room. Puzzle feeders. Scent work. Stairs. Anything that gets them moving. Without going outside. Without facing the rain. Without the darkness.
Cooper lost the 8 pounds by June. Jennifer called me last week. "We're ready for this winter," she said. "We have a plan." And that's the key. A plan. Not willpower. Not motivation. A plan. Because winter will come. The rain will fall. The darkness will arrive. And your dog will gain weight. Unless you have a plan. Unless you measure. Unless you adjust. Unless you find indoor exercise. Unless you love your dog enough to say, "I know it's raining. I know it's dark. I know it's cold. But we're going to move anyway. Even if it's inside. Even if it's boring. Even if it's not what we want. Because your health matters. Even in winter."
—Megan (currently on my third cup of coffee because writing this made me tired)
Let me tell you about the winter that almost defeated me. It was two years ago. The rain started in October and didn't stop until April. Not a drizzle. A deluge. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. The trails were rivers. The streets were lakes. The dog park was a swamp. And I didn't want to go outside. Not for me. Not for Murphy. Not for anyone.
So we stayed inside. We watched TV. We played fetch in the hallway. We did puzzle feeders. We did scent work. We did everything we could think of. And Murphy gained 5 pounds. Because hallway fetch is not trail running. Because puzzle feeders are not swimming. Because scent work is not chasing squirrels. Because indoor exercise is not outdoor exercise. And dogs need outdoor exercise. They need the wind. They need the smells. They need the space. They need the freedom. They need the world. Not the hallway. Not the living room. Not the house. The world.
I felt terrible. I felt guilty. I felt like a failure. I'm a nutrition consultant. I know the science. I know the math. And I still let my dog gain 5 pounds in winter. Because I'm human. Because I'm tired. Because it's hard. Because Portland winter is a beast. And sometimes, the beast wins. Sometimes, you stay inside. Sometimes, you gain weight. Sometimes, you fail. And that's okay. As long as you get back up. As long as you try again. As long as you don't give up. As long as you keep fighting. For your dog. For their health. For their life. For their happiness. For the spring that always comes. Eventually. Always. Eventually.
So if your dog gained weight this winter, don't feel bad. Don't feel guilty. Don't feel like a failure. Feel like a human. Feel like someone who tried. Feel like someone who cares. And then do better. Next winter. Next fall. Next time. Plan ahead. Prepare. Buy rain gear. Buy boots. Buy a coat. For you. For your dog. For the walks that matter. For the exercise that counts. For the health that lasts. For the life that matters. For the love that endures. Even in winter. Even in rain. Even in darkness. Even in Portland. Especially in Portland. Because Portland dogs deserve to be healthy. Even when it's wet. Even when it's dark. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard. Because that's when love matters most. That's when health matters most. That's when life matters most. And that's when you matter most. To your dog. To yourself. To the world. That needs more dogs. More walks. More love. The real kind. The hard kind. The kind that lasts. Forever. Even in winter. Especially in winter. Because winter ends. And spring comes. And dogs run. And owners smile. And love wins. Always. Forever. Eventually.
—Megan (currently on my third cup of coffee because writing this made me tired)
