Canine Fat Camp

So, Murphy's been gone at camp for just over a month.

He got home yesterday.

Actually, the dog who ate Murphy came home yesterday.
He is the rolliest, polliest, fattest version of Murph I have ever laid eyes on.

Which is in stark contrast with his condition before "camp," when he was slim, trim, fit, and had run 60 miles during the month of April. Keeping up with people who were running (with his tiny 4-inch-long-legs).

Now he weighs in at an impressive [actually, at a disgusting] 19.5 pounds.

Ugh.

And I am a horrible dog mom, who keeps calling him things such as "Fatty McGee the Lethargy King." Yes, I'm a bad person and should probably never have children of my own.

So now, much to his chagrin, he's unwillingly entered "The Biggest Loser: Wienie Edition." We went for a "bike ride" today (I rode, he ran... slowly). J & I are committed to walking him for an hour every evening (a challenge since it is hot in the evening and we have to be places early in the morning). One of the main objectives for the summer is to get him back down around 15 pounds where he belongs.

And he will never go to camp again.