Biggie... What are you... I don't even...

   Biggie and I got up yesterday, had our walk, and I fed him his normal breakfast of half a cup of kibble and a splash of soy milk or olive oil.

   Later, while cleaning up the living room, Biggie was sulking by his empty food bowl looking extra-pathetic. I thought, "Meh, I'll give him a little scoop to tide him over until supper."

   That was a huge mistake.

   About two hours later, he targeted Elliott and received another little scoop.

   A couple hours after his regular supper time passed I fed him his regular meal. And then I didn't really hear from him.

"Psst. Look, Dane". Elliott had sneaked into the living room and was pointing at the couch over my shoulder.

I turned to this bloated and guilty piece of haggis:

Each time I checked on him he had rolled into a different position trying to compensate for his swollen belly. 

  So bloated that he can't balance on that horrible pillow.