You can't tell from this photo but when George returned from kennels he was a little barrel. Normally he's quite shapely about the waist but it had disappeared.
I said, 'George, honestly, when they're in kennels most dogs pine for their owners. They stop eating and lose weight; you've come back as a roly-poly podge.'
George looked at me then said, 'Two things: a) have you considered that I may have eaten to bury my sorrow?'
'Um, no. But it's not likely is it?'
'But it's possible though?'
'Well, yes, I suppose so.'
'Thank you. And b) I'd just like to say two words: pot kettle.'
'Point taken. I won't mention your fat belly again.'
He decided to follow me to the top of the folly in Clyne Gardens today. Here's the folly:
And here you can almost see George thinking, 'Okay I'm up here but what do I do now?'