Doggone diet

Eddy here. Finally. Kerry has been dominating the blog for far too long and it's about time I said something. No point in beating around the bush here:

What's going on? There are at least 20 pieces of kibble less in the food bowl every time. I am HUNGRY.

Does this have something to do with someone (who I always really liked but who is obviously an insensitive lout and not on my side at all) commenting last month that I looked fat?

Being a Portuguese Water Dog and in the AKC's Working Dog group, I enjoy having a job to do, and like my ancestors before me I appreciate being paid for my efforts. Whereas they were rewarded with "one large cod and a bowl of rice," I am quite happy with a dry biscuit. I can't believe this has gone to my waistline. I just need a haircut is all.

OK, so I got a haircut, and Kerry didn't think it fixed the so-called "problem." Ever since then I go into the laundry room and hang out with my closed bag of dog food, glaring at every human who walks past, and muttering a disgruntled "MERrrrrrr." This is a kind of poorly-strategized hunger strike, I know. I am the one who is hungry, but she is the one on the food-strike.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but look at this picture of the three of us, taken before my stupid haircut-so I am looking robustly healthy-and I ask you who has the biggest butt? It ain't me and Reub.