he was just done and ready to give up
and die.
Like me.
I started to tear up.
“Can I ask you something?” I said to
Casaundra. “Can I change his name?
I’m a 49ers fan. We hate the Raiders.”
Casaundra laughed. “Yes, you can
change his name. It might take him a
while to respond, but why not? Fresh
start.”I
named him Peety, after the dog
in The Little Rascals, and we took
it slow, just as my doctor and Ca-
saundra had recommended. We had
to. Peety weighed 75 pounds when a
healthy weight for him was more like
50 pounds. But on our first walk to-
gether, Peety took the lead. We made
it halfway down the block and then
came back. Luckily for me, he didn’t
walk very fast. You could practically
hear my footsteps on the sidewalk as
I swung each leg forward—thump,
thump, thump, like the giant from
“Jack and the Bean Stalk.”
The next day we made it to the end
of the block. Soon he would lead me
around the block. Then he’d want to
keep going, and I would tag along.
At the same time, I was following
Dr. Preeti’s instructions for plant-
based eating. Maybe five or six days
after eliminating animal products
from my diet, I woke up feeling like a
new person. I rolled out of bed with
ease. My knees weren’t sore. I had
also put Peety on vegan dog food.He appeared thinner and seemed to
have a spring in his step. And he had
stopped scratching all the time and
shedding everywhere the way he had
when I first brought him home.
At my second office visit with Dr.
Preeti, I weighed five pounds less than
the week before. “I’m actually sur-
prised it’s not more,” I said, “because
I feel different. I feel lighter.”A
few days later, I went to take
Peety for his morning walk
and he backed right out of his
collar. He’d lost so much weight that
it slipped off. My pants were almost
falling off me too. I tightened my belt
as far as it would go, but I realized
that if my belt were to slip, my pants
would fall to the floor. That would not
look good in the middle of an appli-
ance store. I needed to go clothes
shopping—something I had avoided
for years.
I would have ordered clothes on-
line, but I didn’t know what size I was
anymore. At Men’s Wearhouse, the
bending and squatting, dressing and
undressing in the tiny dressing rooms
left me overheated and miserable.
This wasn’t a victory lap. It was aw-
ful. I bought three pairs of pants and
a few shirts and spent nearly $200. It
felt like a rip-off. For the most part,
what’s available for men over 300
pounds is the equivalent of a muu-
muu: low-end, loud Hawaiian-print
shirts.
Sitting on the couch that night, Ird.com 115Inspiration