I knew something was amiss when two corgis greeted me at the door when I got home for lunch. Where in the world was Tristan? As I walked in the door, I heard it - an unmistakable rustling sound. I pushed open the laundry room door and there he was, head buried deep in the dog food bag, gobbling food as fast as he could. I dragged him out of the bag and brought him out with the other two to survey the "damage". Pooh-Bert looked pregnant. I mean this boy looked like he'd swallowed not one but two… Continue