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With a snort, Arthur awoke for the morning. The Golden retriever had been pulled from a rather indulgent dream, one that had seen him surfing rivers of cola while on a board made of potato chips. It wasn't often the canine had such dreams, but when he did... He tended just to let them linger in his mind. Another sniff to the morning air further stirred the canid, his brain starting to wake up even as the dream continued to stay at the forefront of his mind. He could almost still taste the trees he had eaten with little effort, smell the sugary ground beneath his paws, even hear the light whistle of the taffy birds which had populated the forest he had been in. Arthur couldn't bring himself to not think of these things either, letting his mind meander even as he sat up in bed and got ready to start his day. Of course, that day was a day off, so there was no urgency to the Golden retriever's movements, but he still wanted to get at least something going for the day. Staying in bed all day was nice, but... His stomach was quite demanding that morning thanks to his dreams, and food wouldn't just materialize in his bed despite how hard he willed it to be.

Swinging his paws off the side of the bed, Arthur looked down to the probable culprit for his food-based dreams. A round, hefty bulge of white fur swelled only just from the front of his torso. The canine wasn't fat persay, but he had been in better shape before. Months of working behind a desk and just forcing himself to put off gym time again and again in order to meet deadlines and the like meant that he had been fighting a losing battle against the bulge of his middle. Of course, the Golden retriever was still somewhat embarrassed by his lack of a sculpted frame, but he did know where it came from. He didn't necessarily hate his newfound rotundity, but there was enough social pressure on being thin and active that the very idea of being mildly overweight ate at him. That pressure forced him to eat a little more to bury those feelings, and thusly added even more weight onto his swelling, soft problem. It was a vicious cycle and one that he wanted to get off of at some points... And others, he couldn't have cared less. There was nothing wrong with the added flesh around his midsection after all, and he wasn't getting winded by stairs or struggling to fit into doors, was he? No... Nothing of the sort was happening, so why should he worry about those few extra pounds. That was the logical part of his brain, but squashing down the feelings that came from the emotional part was a far more laborious task and one that the canine had been struggling with for months.

Sighing and giving his head a light shake, his ears bouncing to and fro from the motion beneath them, Arthur rose to his feet with a light grunt. Both of his paws went to his back, the canid leaning forward and stretching out to get the last few bits of sleep out of his body. A few pops and a crack or two came from that stretch, but the canine didn't even notice those noises; that last pop felt so good that Arthur's tongue fell from his muzzle. Reveling in the momentary relief of feeling his joints and frame relax, Arthur's eyes went cross-eyed, and his jaw fell slack as he panted in contentment. The moment didn't last long though, as a low, steady growl came from his stomach and reminded the canine just why he had gotten out of bed. His stomach was quite demanding that morning, almost moreso than usual, and the canine just gave it a sideways glance as he began to walk towards the door of his modest bedroom.

"Calm down there, I'm moving..." He muttered to no one, a paw coming to rest on his lightly curved stomach. The Golden retriever was alone after all, so a bit of conversation with his insistent belly wasn't something he minded. His paw rubbed over that soft, plush surface a few times before falling to his side, brushing against one of his hips for a moment as the canine continued his sauntering walk towards the kitchen. His swaying hips bounced his tail to and fro, the inherent wag that Arthur usually had only exaggerated by his playful walk. He may have been hungry, but his dream had left the canine in a good mood, and he wasn't about to let that mood go very easily. As such, once Arthur finally made it into his kitchen; a trip that didn't take long his reasonably small house, the canine leaned against the counter to ponder just what he could make. He had gotten groceries the night before, stocking up rather heavily at the local big-box store for a party that he planned on the weekend, as well as the company cook-out in two days. This meant that the canine was utterly spoiled with choices, as he had nearly all the food he would eat in a month inside his kitchen for that one day.

"Well, well, well... Let's see, shall we?" Another few words to his stomach after it gurgled for food yet again, and Arthur meandered his way over to the refrigerator. He didn't open it immediately, instead reaching to a cupboard beside the large appliance and pulling out a glass. Getting some water from the freezer door with one paw, the other clasped the chiller door's handle and gave it a light tug. That tug wasn't enough, though... And it took a bit more force than Arthur was expecting to open his refrigerator. Of course, this could have been from how full the door was; it felt heavy just swinging open to the canine, but as he looked in, he could clearly see why. There was hardly an inch of space on any of the shelves, or on the door itself; everything had food on it. His cabinets looked the same thanks to his shopping, but just seeing it when he was hungry and after his previous night's dreams... It was almost, almost enough to make the Golden retriever drool. He slurped lightly before any could escape his muzzle, his eyes going wide as the canine processed all the choices he had. Eggs looked to be the name of the game, though, and as such, Arthur reached for the cartoon of 18 eggs that he had bought. He would just have a few... Maybe. His stomach was demanding food rather fiercely, though, so it was little surprise that the canine grabbed for his wok rather than merely for his skillet as his body moved on instinct rather than with any sort of thought.

This instinct continued as the canine cracked one, two, and then three eggs into the wok. He kept on going too, his brain almost on auto-pilot as he cooked... Or rather, kept adding eggs and multiple, liberal pats of butter into the wok. He flipped and stirred, the wooden fork in his paws making a heaping pile of scrambled eggs with ease as Arthur continued to just work without any sort of thought. Where was his brain? It was still lingering in the dreamland he had left, or rather trying to cling to it as those feelings and thoughts continued to vanish into the waking hours of the morning. Evaporating like the morning dew, that dream was already less and less clear to Arthur. He couldn't grasp just why it was, but as his brain continued to try and work while he cooked without even really looking at what he was doing, spices and seasoning were added into those eggs. Arthur knew that something was off with what he was making, a few times seeing the size of the pot he was using or feeling the weight of just what he was moving around, but the canine didn't think much of it as he just figured he had added one or two more eggs to his dish. A bit of indulgence in the morning wasn't a bad thing, of course, as it could be countered with a light lunch.

Toast was added to the mix, bacon going into the oven as the eggs were nearly finished, and as the bacon and toast cooked... Arthur finally snapped out of his own little world and back to the reality before him. What he saw made his jaw drop, and his stomach noisily state its intentions. The canine had made not a few eggs, but the full eighteen from the container. The toast? He had used the oven somehow as he had made an entire loaf of bread. The bacon? The whole package of course there too, and when he looked at the 'glass' he had grabbed for his orange juice? It was an entire pitcher, though one that Arthur had bought from a novelty shop because it looked almost like a cup. The canine didn't even know where to begin with the utter mess he had made of breakfast, despite there being no mess in the kitchen, as he had somehow cleaned up after himself despite not fully paying attention to anything that he was doing. It was as if he knew that he needed a feast, but had made a feast fit for ten average furs. He was hungrier than usual, sure, but this? The canine didn't even know where to begin on what he had made, so instead of even trying... He just got out a mixing bowl, and two of the most substantial platters he had.

Dishing out his absurd helpings, Arthur's cheeks grew deeply red as he saw the spread before him. He had made a serving size for someone at least three times his width, and yet it almost seemed... Appetizing to him. His brain was screaming for there to be less food, the sheer thought of all those calories going into the dog enough to send copious alarm bells throughout his mind. Arthur tried to ignore them, but how could he? Evidence of his greedy, uncontrolled gluttony was sitting right on his counter before him, and it wasn't exactly going anywhere unless he threw it out. Not one to waste food, even a bit of it, the canine just gave a heavy sigh. He looked down at his stomach after this, his gaze narrowing as he looked past his muzzle down at the gentle curve of excess that protruded from his torso. "You're not getting all of that..." The words almost felt hollow as Arthur spoke them for some reason, and as his stomach roared with angry hunger in response to that, the canine knew that more than what he wanted to eat would wind up in that stomach.

Carrying his meal to the couch, it took three full trips for the canine to get all that food over to his coffee table. The spread almost filled that surface with how much was there, and it looked to be more breakfast buffet rather than breakfast serving. Arthur was already committed to eating what he could, particularly of the eggs, since they didn't keep very well... But just seeing it out of his kitchen was something of a shocker for him. He had been hungry before, but this was new... And it wasn't entirely unwelcome despite the raging thoughts through Arthur's mind. Before he could eat, though, the canine did at least want to get some clothing on; he wanted to be modest despite being alone. He had cooked that entire spread in his underwear, and now that he already had the one embarrassment of cooking that much, he wanted to do at least something to restore an ounce of his dignity. There was no one there to judge him but himself, and that little bit of self-doubt was now a yelling voice in his mind. Arthur was mostly nude, cooked up an amount of food that would give most a coronary just looking at it, and about to dig in with a serving spoon only in front of his TV. Societal pressures and years of watching as that very image of himself had been pressed as being horrid, unwanted, unloved, and various other negative connotations flooded his mind and made the canine whimper a bit to himself now that he stood over his feast.

Arthur quickly walked back to his bedroom, embarrassed as could be as his white cheeks warmed with a bright blush beneath his thick fur. He went looking for clothing immediately, searching for something, anything that would cover him up, and at least let him hide a small piece of his shame. Searching through his drawers, the Golden retriever was quick to pull out a tank top and a pair of sweats; his usual comfortable clothes. He saw those clothes, though, and quickly went back to harshly judging himself for his selection; those were the quintessential dress of a hallmark fatass. Arthur wasn't that, not at all, and yet he couldn't help but feel like it as he clutched the grey sweats and white tank top in his paw. He turned to look at the mirror in his room, feeling fat as hell as he stood there in just his boxers holding clothes that had enough stretch to them that he could eat that whole feast and then some. It was... Humiliating for him, and yet as that voice in his brain chided him for even considering such a choice, there was something else welling up from the dark depths of his mind. This voice was new, and it was not at all unwelcome against the onslaught of negative emotions and feelings that were filling Arthur's brain.

It started as a whisper, of course, something that had come from looking at the mirror to see himself. Arthur couldn't place it, but as he let his free paw wander down to press against his stomach, the gurgling and groaning organ that was demanding he hurry up and go eat, that voice got louder. It wasn't a real voice, persay, but more just a feeling. It had been there always, but the fact that he had made such an absurd breakfast and then his clothing choices had silenced it. That feeling was coming back though, cutting through the self-doubt and embarrassment that overwhelmed the Golden retriever in every sense of the word. Arthur let that paw linger on his stomach, slowly pressing into the soft flesh there for a few moments before rebounding out and then starting to rub in gentle, slow circles. The feelings of doubt were evaporating, slowly, as that screaming voice in the back of Arthur's mind quieted. It was still there, sure, yelling at him for even contemplating enjoying the swell of overindulgence on his torso. 'How dare he let the small pockets of fat along his frame bring him any enjoyment?' 'What kind of pervert actually liked their fat self in the mirror?' 'How could anyone feel even a shred of pride about the feast in the other room?' Those thoughts and more came hard and fast to Arthur as his gaze stayed locked on the mirror across the room from himself. In that mirror was a Golden retriever, much like him, but this one almost looked... Happy. There wasn't a single iota of fear or conflict in this canine, his white fur almost seemed to shine brighter because of that. He looked on with pride at his stomach, both of his paws cradling that burgeoning food baby rather tenderly as they let his clothing selection fall to the floor. There wasn't a hint of fear or nervousness in his yellow eyes, but rather joy. His body looked to be the same shape as Arthur's, well-fed and soft around the edges, but hardly what one would call fat. It wasn't as if he was terrible to look at either; he just was a bit thicker than the average canine. That mirrored canine saw nothing wrong with this, or at least he seemed not to as he winked at Arthur with a grin.

It was in that moment that Arthur realized, somehow, that the canine in the mirror had been him the entire time. There was a heap of clothing at his feet, his stomach was cradled in both of his paws, the slight sag of his overhang warming them comfortably. His lightly puffy chest looked to be fuller than Arthur remembered in that reflection, the angles of his face softer... Just something about that reflection had felt so foreign and familiar, and it clearly had been for a reason, as Arthur finally saw himself for being himself, rather than through the eyes that society had stared at him with. Granted, a lot of that societal judgment had been in the canine's head, but of course, he couldn't quite put that together. The canine was just seeing himself for being himself for the first, real time; any judgments about the influence or where that had come from would have to wait. The canine could barely process the new wave of feeling flooding his mind as he just continued to stare at the mirror, almost afraid to move as if that would break the illusion that was seemingly filling his mind. He couldn't bring himself to look away though, just wanting to drink in every single strand of fur, every curve of adipose, every inch of Golden retriever; Arthur wanted this image to be burned into his mind. He wanted the feelings at that moment to last along with that image too; ones of validation, of confidence, of freedom from judgment, of beauty. He wanted them all right there, just living alongside his mental image of himself so that the bout of resentment that he felt for even considering to let himself indulge wouldn't be able to find a foothold ever again in his mind.

Arthur looked over himself for nearly two minutes before he finally let his gaze leave the mirror. He hadn't said a word or moved his paws, allowing them to continue to exist under his small paunch. His tail was now wagging though, and that was the only movement on the canine; where it had been tucked between his legs in pained embarrassment when Arthur had entered the room, it was now wagging hard enough to send a few, rippling wobbles through the front of his torso. It was another fantastic feeling for Arthur, and a new sensation that he surely had felt before... But now, he actually found the joy of that sensation, or rather he just was able to find that joy overall. There wasn't an innate attraction he felt to the canine in the mirror opposite him, but rather it was as though the veil of self-loathing that had been cast over Arthur's eyes had been lifted. The Golden retriever had finally come to see what he needed to see for so long; that he looked damn good like this, and a bit of extra padding from enjoying who he was, and not who he could become, was allowed. It was more than allowed, in fact, as Arthur bit his lip and let that thought sink in. He didn't even hesitate this time, though; his brain was tired of hesitating, and the demands of his belly were getting too painful to ignore. Arthur deposited his underwear around his ankles, taking in a deep breath as he did so. Standing up again and looking into the mirror, the canine... Just gave a small smile at what he saw. He still could feel that wave of confidence wash over him, something that he welcomed rather greatly from the sheer amount of will it had taken to even do something as simple as strip down to just his bare fur. He had spent years making sure to be clothed even when he was alone, and now? He was going to enjoy his few days off... And honestly, spend some of that time getting to know the new side of himself that had finally been freed thanks to a dream and a pair of sweatpants.

The Golden retriever didn't waste those few days, though, as he had a breakfast to eat.

And a lunch after that!