Case closed.

So we're sitting around the other night, kids are slumbering away, and it's time to herd Daisy (because that's what's required) outside to take care of business, when she flops on her side as though she's fallen and can't get up. This is not unusual. What was unusual was the vastness of her belly as she lay prone. She's a girl with curves, to be sure, but she looked like I might need to roll her out the door like a giant snowball. My immediate concern was whether we might have a health issue to address, and as we've had handful of vet visits in the last couple of months, resulting in our having to sell off the children one by one (we're starting with Bubs in case anyone is interested), I was mildly concerned. But with enough coaxing and prodding she made her way outside.

Fast forward to this morning. I was frantically slapping together a packed lunch for Wonderboy, who was headed to scout camp, and thought it odd that Daisy wasn't underfoot begging for a slice of turkey. I peeked into the dining room and there she froze, mid-chomp, with half a dog biscuit hanging out of her mouth. She remained frozen, with the exception of the eyeball that fixed on me, until I left the room to retrieve the camera. I followed the trail of evidence, and her bloated condition was justified by the near-empty, Costco bulk pack of dog biscuits, overturned on the floor of the storage room. Almost fifteen pounds of dog biscuits polished off by Daisy. That's quite a feat, I think.