Tobby is a slim gentleman. Long legs, a narrow waist, an elegant line from nose to tail. When he walks across the room, he looks like a dog who could run a marathon, or at least seriously consider one.
This lasts exactly until he sits down.
The moment Tobby sits or lies down, something happens. The athlete disappears. The long legs fold away somewhere. The body settles, spreads, softens. And where a slender Labrador stood a second ago, there is now a good, round, farm-style roast chicken.
Look at him from above. The back legs stick out on both sides, perfectly symmetrical, exactly like drumsticks on a Sunday platter. The soft round back in the middle. Everything golden and glossy and ready to be served.
If anything, the roast is slightly overdone. He is, after all, very chocolate.
I know, I know. A gentleman should never be judged by his figure, and I would never say a word about Tobby's weight. This is not about weight. It is about the magic trick of a dog who is all legs and dignity while standing, and pure soft comfort the second he stops.
And when he really lets go, there is a third shape. Flat on the floor, legs stretched front and back, he becomes long again, impossibly long, like someone rolled out chocolate dough and forgot to cut it into cookies.
Slim. Roast chicken. Rolled dough. Three dogs in one, and I love every version.
But if I am honest, my favorite is the chicken. Because that is the shape of a dog who feels completely safe. Nobody sits like that when they are worried. You only fold into a soft round heap like that when you know nothing bad will happen, and that someone who loves you is close by.
So yes. He is my sweet, soft-bottomed, slightly over-roasted chimken. And I wouldn't change a single drumstick.
Does your dog have a secret shape that only appears at home? What do you call it?
With love, from HerWay (and Tobby)
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