Dr. Martinez looked at Gus's weight chart and said "no more treats." I panicked. I said "what do you mean no more treats." She said "no more treats." I said "but he loves treats." She said "he loves food. He'll love green beans too." I said "green beans." She said "frozen green beans." I thought she was joking. She was not joking. She was very serious. She wrote it on a prescription pad. A prescription pad. For green beans.
I went to the grocery store. I bought a bag of frozen green beans. I stood in the frozen aisle for ten minutes, reading the nutrition label on a bag of green beans. 30 calories per cup. Gus's old treats were 40 calories each. He got 5 treats a day. That's 200 calories. Green beans: 30 calories per cup. He could have a whole cup for the same calories as one treat. The math was simple. The feelings were complicated.
The first green bean was a disaster. I offered it to Gus. He sniffed it. He looked at me. He looked at the green bean. He looked back at me. His expression said "this is not a treat." His expression said "I have been betrayed." His expression said "I thought you loved me." I said "it's a treat." He said nothing. Because he's a dog. But his eyes said everything.
I ate one first. I chewed it loudly. I made enthusiastic noises. Gus watched. He was interested. Not convinced, but interested. I offered him another. He took it. He chewed. He swallowed. He looked at me. He wanted another. I gave him another. He ate it. He sat. He waited. He wanted more. I had converted him. In three green beans, I had converted a golden retriever.
By day three, Gus was excited about green beans. Actually excited. He would hear the freezer door open and come running. He didn't know it was green beans. He just knew the freezer door meant something good. Previously, the freezer door meant ice cubes. Now it meant green beans. Gus loves ice cubes. Gus loves green beans. Gus loves anything that comes from the freezer. Gus is not picky. Gus is a golden retriever.
The weight started dropping. Slowly. But consistently. 82 pounds. Then 81.5. Then 81. Then 80.5. I tracked it every Saturday. The spreadsheet had a new column: "treats." Previously it said "Milk-Bones 5x/day." Now it said "Green beans 1 cup/day." The calorie difference was 170 per day. That's 1,190 per week. That's 5,100 per month. That's significant. That's why the weight dropped. That's why Dr. Martinez prescribed green beans. She knew the math. I just needed to trust her.
I told my neighbor about the green beans. He has a beagle named Waffles. He said "my dog would never eat green beans." I said "have you tried." He said "no." I said "try." He tried. Waffles ate the green beans. Waffles is also not picky. Waffles is a beagle. Beagles are basically stomachs with legs. All dogs are stomachs with legs. The green beans work because dogs don't care. They just want something in their mouth. They just want the ritual. They just want you to open the freezer and say "good boy."
The prescription pad is still on my fridge. It says "Green beans. Frozen. 1 cup/day." It has Dr. Martinez's signature. It has the clinic's logo. It's the most ridiculous prescription I've ever received. It's also the most effective. Gus lost 4 pounds in two months. The vet was pleased. I was pleased. Gus was pleased because he still got treats. They were just green. And frozen. And technically vegetables.
I still give him real treats sometimes. On birthdays. On special occasions. When I feel guilty. But the daily treats are green beans. And Gus is happy. And I'm happy. And the spreadsheet is happy. And Dr. Martinez is happy. Everyone is happy. Except the green beans. They don't have feelings. They're just frozen vegetables. They're doing their job. They're keeping my dog healthy. One frozen bean at a time.
