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Part VI: World's Fattest Dog

As things turned out at least one of the owners insisted on giving the Jerk money for the puppies. Rascal saw when he pulled the wad of cash out of an envelope one evening. The next day, Rascal had a day off from being exhibited. Instead, he was loaded up in the Jerk's truck and trundled over to a local veterinarian who then removed all of the blackened and painful teeth on the right side of his mouth. The recovery took time and for a few days, Rascal had to subside on fluids alone, but despite now missing half of his teeth, the obese collie reveled in the huge improvement. He could now hold things in his mouth and use his tongue properly with his food instead of constantly trying not to touch the rotten teeth. The intermittent pain was finally gone and if Rascal had enjoyed eating before, there was nothing now stopping him from enjoying dry food, crunchy foods and hard biscuits. Rascal developed a minor addiction for potato chips after the Jerk foolishly left a bag on the seat of his recliner. He could lay down and crunch crackers and chips for hours and consume however much was available.

Once the pain in his mouth was gone, things returned much to the way they were before the pups were born with one important exception, he and the Jerk now could get along quite well. It wasn't so much that the Jerk had changed so much as Rascal stopped resisting. Once he could enjoy eating, once he wanted to eat, there was nothing left to dislike about the man. Rascal ate and he enjoyed it. As Rose had once said, it "filled the hours." However there was still that one thing missing that Rascal could never communicate his desire for.

Something that hung over him and all of the other foods that he enjoyed. Deep Fried Butter. He still craved it and as time passed, the longing only became stronger. The worst part was that he knew he could have it too, any night that he wanted... all he had to do was walk to the end of the exhibit alley and back. But Rascal never did. On the occasions that he found himself outside of the trailer at night doing his business, he would stare down the darkened alley with longing, attempting to sniff the air for traces of the heavenly treat, but he was afraid; afraid of the pain, and afraid that the weight he'd been gaining was finally too much for his old and worn joints. He didn't want to take the chance of hurting himself. So he stayed and continued to watch his waistline grow inch by inch. When the longing for Deep Fried Butter became too much, he thought of Mohawk and his other pups as well. At least two of them were always close by, he knew, and the obese collie wondered when his children would get the chance to stop by their tub of a mother again.

Two months had passed since his adoption when Rascal finally saw his son again.

Rascal was outside late at night for the third time this week and he told himself for the third time to stop drinking so much before bed. Of course the salty snacks that he consumed did not help with reducing his thirst. The morbidly obese collie struggled with waddling a safe enough distance away and then crouching for long enough to get the job done. The problem was Rascal's gut was so enormous and heavy that his hind-legs not only had to take the additional weight as they bent, the knees had to bend outwards to accommodate the swollen tummy. It was embarrassing to fathom, but Rascal was getting too fat to toilet properly. Walking any distance was seeming more and more like a pipe-dream and Rascal hardly even remembered what it was like to run anymore.

Rascal finished up, wiping his rear on the grass since he was incapable of cleaning downstairs like a normal dog would, and waddled the few steps back to the door of the trailer to wait for the Jerk to let him back in. Leaning his weight against the tire, the collie rested after what seemed like a great deal of effort on his part. This night seemed hardly any different from previous nights and Rascal was just looking forward to getting carried back to his warm, soft bed and hoping that the Jerk would not forget that he was out here as he was still wont to do.

Looking out aimlessly into the night, Rascal saw movement between the shadows of the other exhibits. The fat laden collie's heart involuntarily crept up a notch and his nostrils flared to catch a scent. But Rascal could see nothing in the space where the movement had caught his eye and the air was still and cold this early spring night. For a moment, the practically immobile and helpless collie had a vision of the hungry coyote that had almost stolen his life and the lives of six puppies more than four months ago as something bounded out of the darkness towards him.

Instead of bites to his tender and copious meats, however, Rascal received fervent licks on the face. The warm smell radiated all around as the figure shook the dust from his coat. "Mohawk!" Rascal exclaimed and received yet more happy licks to his face and neck.

"Mother! I am so glad that I caught you out. I've been coming here every night for the last week." The young canine chirped, all but dancing on his paws in excitement.

Rascal shied his face away, "Yeah... I haven't been out much lately. Mostly just come out, do my business and go back inside."

The young collie-mix stepped forward and rubbed his face against his mother's, "It doesn't matter. I'm just happy to see you now."

Rascal managed a smile and licked the cheek of his son. "How are your humans?" he asked.

Mohawk smiled and looked wistfully back towards the other side of the lighted fair. "Unbelievable. I've learned so much since they took me in. Look, I can do this!"

The young collie dog proceeded to crouch and then, as if defying gravity, his upper body lifted into the air and Mohawk began to walk about on his hind legs alone like a man. Tongue lolling from his mouth, Rascal's offspring showed amazing balance as he effortlessly walked both forward and back. It made Rascal proud and strangle jealous to see him perform such a feat; if Rascal had possessed his old body, that might have been something that he would have really wanted to learn how to do. As things were, however... he had enough problems just sitting up. "That's really great, Mohawk. I'm so happy to hear your doing so well." Rascal said

Mohawk settled lightly onto his paws again, panting lightly. As he spoke, though, Rascal couldn't help but notice the significant glance towards his even more rounded flanks, "So... erm, how have you been holding up, Mom?"

Rascal snorted in amusement, "Oh same as ever, I suppose. Heh, still the star of my show." The bigger dog shuffled his weight uncomfortably.

"Oh, um." Struggled Mohawk. It was obvious he wanted to ask the question. "So, you look like you've been... er, eating well?"

Rascal became uncomfortably aware of the fact that his belly was so large and wide that his knees couldn't touch the ground and that his shoulder fat was hanging so low, he could touch the ground with it just by leaning to the side. "Ha, that's a nice way of putting it." Rascal looked at the ground, "I..." he took a deep breath, "I know I've been putting on weight again."

"When do you..." Mohawk tried, but faltered, "Are you even trying to do anything about your weight?"

Rascal had to bite back an angry retort. 'I tried to do something about it! It didn't want to be like this, I never even thought a dog could be so fat just a few months ago.' He thought but didn't say. Rascal knew that Mohawk would never understand. The truth was that he'd given up, surrendered to the situation, but he couldn't tell him that either. "Mohawk," Rascal started uncertainly, "My weight... well, just isn't as big a problem for me as you think it is. I'm fine with it and you shouldn't be worried for me."

Mohawk didn't seem too convinced, but he held his tongue.

Trying to change the subject, Rascal asked, "How is your sister? Have you seen her?"

Mohawk said, "Yes, she's pretty much the 'Auto-Shop Dog' now. I've visited her, but they keep her on the tether a lot. I've told her that she needs to prove she won't 'wander off' to her human so he'll let her out more. So far it hasn't happened yet."

Rascal nodded. "I'm sure that she'll be able to get out in time. Trust takes time to build.

His son nodded, but didn't have anything to add. The silence spread between like a miasma.

Rascal, trying to avoid embarrassing himself by ineffectually wobbling a hind leg in the air attempting to scratch a bad itch in the tangles on his wide back, finally said, "What do you think about fetching your mother some of that fried butter? Just like you and Blondie used to."

"Mom..." Mohawk said as if stunned by the question. "What on earth do you need with fried butter? You look like you're fit to explode already!"

So it finally came to it. Rascal couldn't blame Mohawk, he might have refused himself if the situation were reversed, but Deep Fried Butter... the longing was sharp and Rascal felt like something was simply missing in his life without it. Rascal let his head drop as if with disappointment, "I just thought that my one remaining son would be willing to help enrich his mother's life. It's not like I get out very much anyway..."

Rascal played the part of the martyr very well, but Mohawk wasn't buying it. "I think you could do with a little less 'enriching,' Mother." The young collie-mix shook his head, "Don't you care about your health? I understand that that man had fattened you up like a thanksgiving turkey for the show, but that doesn't mean you have to just keep getting bigger!" Mohawk let out a heavy sigh and looked hard at where Rascal continued to lay on his big mattress of a belly. "Can you even walk still?"

Rascal frowned and, with some effort raised himself up so that his eyes were at least level with his son's; he could have been higher, but his slouching had become worse with his increasing weight. The older collie's round belly pressed hard up against the backs of his forepaws which were bent around its circumference. In the middle and even around the sides of Rascal's front legs, it gushed forward, giving the impression that a flood of fat was kept barely in check by the skinny sticks his legs had become against the scope of his bulk. Rascal was easily four times as wide as the much smaller canine in front of him. Tongue hanging out and panting with exertion, Rascal asserted, "I'm perfectly fine. You worry too much, Mohawk."

"You can sit up at least." Mohawk observed coolly. Rascal wished her son would regain his temper. It was the name calling incident all over again, except that this time, Rascal didn't think things were going to be solved by a short, talk and some fried butter.

Rascal's breath slowed as he calmed, though his beleaguered heart remained beating fast for some time. He was done talking about his weight with someone who could not possibly understand Rascal's situation. "Mohawk, I think it's time you return home. You don't want to lose whatever wandering privileges you've gained."

Mohawk inclined his head and at least he was willing to let the matter drop. "You're right mother. I'll be around, just come out at night, same time we used to come out."

"Make sure you tell your sister too, I'll be out here from now on. I'm sure she'll want to catch up on what's happened since we parted."

Mohawk grinned, "I think she will."

Rascal turned his head and took a long look towards the fried butter stand at the end of the alley. "I think Blondie would be more than happy to take a short walk for her mother after these long weeks."

Mohawk, initially smiling dropped his ears in concern. "What do you mean by that, Mother?"

"Oh nothing, I'm just looking forward to telling Blondie about how I've been how and how we might benefit each other's lots. We three have to stick together don't we."

"We do..." Mohawk said as he looked deeply into Rascal's eyes. The older and more wily canine thought that he was slowly understanding what Rascal was saying.

"Good. Nothing good comes from alienating oneself from their family after all." Rascal turned, scooting his heavy backside on the dirt and lifted a paw, scratching the door in order to bring forth the Jerk. There was no more time for words as Mohawk had to bid a hasty farewell not to get caught at large. However, from the expression on his face as he disappeared into the gloom, Rascal knew that his son was going to think long on the words they'd shared tonight.

The next night, Rascal was "surprised" to see Mohawk appear, his mouth filled with the deep fried confection that he'd been craving for weeks. Mohawk came with a little story of thinking things over and deciding that it was Rascal's choice and he didn't have the right to deprive his mother of his favorite snack to save face. Rascal didn't prod Mohawk, but privately delighted in the fact that his parting words with his son had had the desired effect. Of course, once mentioned, both of them had known that Blondie would of course relent to Rascal's requests for Deep Fried Butter. _ Mohawk was smart enough to realize that his refusal would put him at odds with both his mother and his sister. So he'd had a choice of sticking with his principles or alienating himself from his family. As Rascal chomped down on the savory snack, relishing as the liquid gold ran over the gums on the right side of his mouth, he was happy his son had made the right decision. Later, Rascal would feel guilt for twisting Mohawk's paw like that, but he never did turn down an offering of - Holy Hostess! - _Deep Fried Butter.

Eventually, Blondie began to get out of the auto-shop at least a couple times a week and Rascal made sure that he was always available outside for the nocturnal family gatherings. There was rowdy play between the three dogs - in as much as Rascal could be "rowdy" - sharing of news, talk of their owners and general enjoyment of each other's company. On those nights that both Blondie and Mohawk made it over, Rascal was as likely as not to receive double helpings of his favored treat, of course.

Naturally, the inclusion of such a high fat foodstuff into Rascal's already exaggerated diet made its effects known on his waistline. Not two months had past before getting up altogether began to become out of the question. Another three months and Rascal found that it was virtually impossible to get anywhere without the Jerk carting him like a sack of potatoes; a comparison that Rascal sometimes felt was quite apt.

While Rascal felt the burden of his incessantly growing weight more and more as the year advanced, he still found that there was little inclination to do anything about it within himself. Sometimes, the weight, his absurd level of obesity simply did not seem real, at other times, it was a staggering truth that made Rascal feel like weeping. Something inside of him had changed, he knew. The old Rascal would have done anything in his power to not only prevent his weight steadily chipping away at his remaining mobility, he'd have focused on reversing the problem. And yet... Between the hunger pangs that seized hold of him and made reason and logic evaporate and the blanket of fat which encased him and made every movement a chore, and even the expectations of not only his owner but everyone who came to see him on a daily basis, the weight gain seemed completely inevitable. Why fight it when it was easier to simply indulge in the only lifestyle this body seemed capable of indulging in?

Mohawk and eventuallyeven Blondie had their own input on the situation of course, but by the time both of them had something to say on the matter, Rascal was beyond even parting his flesh from the ground. By the time he was rendered completely sedentary, Rascal felt comfortable enough in the fact that nothing could be done about his situation to shrug off both of their concerns. And still the width of his torso, the depth of his neck, the breadth of his shoulders and the height of his bulk continued to increase with reckless abandon seemingly - from Rascal's point of view - no input from him at all...

Rascal awoke short of breath as was usually the case and took several deep breaths to steady himself and slow his racing heart, the air whistling in the back of his fat congested air way. He coughed a couple times to clear the passage of the night's accumulation of phlegm and then was still. It was late in the morning and the Jerk was already busy in the kitchen. Rascal watched him wash the previous night's dishes, prepare his coffee and then break a couple eggs over a still warming pan. The lard-filled collie's tail twitched when he saw the Jerk put the chicken broth into the microwave. Though he no longer really needed his food softened, kibble with broth was still far superior than kibble alone.

Apparently not realizing that Rascal was already awake, the wrinkled human walked over and pressed a foot firmly into Rascal's huge, distended flank. The foot sank easily into the soft flab, though the sensation hardly registered as more than pressure with Rascal's exaggerated proportions. What the collie felt more was when the jerk gently rocked him side to side with the foot, causing Rascal to slosh more than a little back and forth something like a Jello mold. Rascal lifted his head as a signal that he was awake and the Jerk grinned down at him. "Time'tah gi'up, fat'tog." He said. Rascal squirmed with the legs on one side of his body in his haphazard way of rolling over onto his gut and the Jerk assisted him with his foot as had become the norm for getting up in the morning.

Settling onto his gut, Rascal felt relief from the compression on his left side, the one he'd been sleeping on, the skin and fur was happy to be able to breathe again. At the same time, he felt his elbows settle comfortably into their stuffed fat hollows below the conquering bulges of shoulder fat which now stretched easily to the floor. Chest fat parted his forepaws widely and also buried them so that only his digits were showing from under the flab and thick hair. Rascal kept his head close to the ground to avoid having to lift the heavy curtain of fat and skin which now draped from the underside of his neck. Though Rascal was at this point only vaguely aware of his hindquarters which he could no longer turn his head enough to see and which to a large extent was immobilized by the rampant fat deposits, he could feel the tops of his overturned hind paws brushing against the floor, the legs turned wide accommodate the vast belly which had fully consumed all of what should have been the negative space beneath Rascal's undercarriage. It's current project seemed to be to get at the space that would have existed under Rascal's paws had he been able to stand. Rascal now laid on top of a vast mat of fatty flesh that extended from breastbone to crotch (and a little beyond). He balanced his hips on the squishy mattress, but these days, little effort was required on his part as it was now difficult to "fall off" despite the increased height his belly now lifted him. The base of him, when viewing his forward profile, was his widest point. His flanks then sloped upward very roundly from the ground in the shape like a bell or an egg until reaching his back which no longer showed any traces of the spine buried so deeply under the flesh. Rascal's limbs, where they were even visible, looked almost like vestigial organs in their stick-like appearance and vastly inadequate strength with the exception of his thighs which were round and swollen like hog shanks.

Any appreciation that Rascal felt for his sheer size, however was rendered quite moot in his anticipation for his heaping bowl of breakfast. The second the Jerk laid the gently steaming bowl in front of Rascal, he began to lap it up with a vigor he didn't show for anything else. The human grunted approvingly, "E't up there, Fat'tog. We head'n out Missouri to'dah."

Rascal lifted his head in alarm and, surprisingly paused in shoveling down his food. Missouri was just one state over from his home state of Tennessee.

'Missouri!' Rascal thought with dire alarm as he sat lazily in the exhibit, his embarrassing quantities of flesh laid out for the public to see. Though he was no longer capable of playing with the many toys of the exhibit, his sheer size seemed to be drawing a crowd. Rascal paid hardly any attention, however, as fear and anticipation tingled up his submerged spine. He hadn't been so aroused from his normally impassive state in months. He was breathing heavily just with the effort of his excited thoughts. 'And we're leaving today!' Rascal thought with equal parts fear and wanting.

It was difficult to fathom that one whole year, one third of his life previously had passed. So much had changed and yet, as Rascal noted from the wooden walls keeping him in the exhibit, so little had changed. Rascal just couldn't get over the fact that the fair was finally bringing him back, bringing him... home. And yet to his family, it would have been like he'd never left.

The thought of her got Rascal's heart pumping faster and made him even more alert. He shook with his impotent rage which was rekindled for the first time since he'd realized he was stuck with his obese, gender-altered body. Rose. That witch, that snake in the grass, how could he have loved her? And Rascal realized then that he had loved her, loved her from the moment he had set eyes on her corpulent form, the one which he had now lived with - and expanded - for the last year. And yet nothing remained of that love, Rascal felt only contempt for her and he longed for nothing more than to place her back in this body which somehow, Rascal had managed to all but double in weight since last she occupied it. 'Then she'd know what fat really is...' thought Rascal fiendishly

Somehow, it seemed as though Rascal had spent the previous months asleep. The details were hazy and he could not remember one day specifically from another. Yet all of a sudden, it was as if he had woken up with the knowledge that his final confrontation with Rose would soon be at hand. Where before time had stretched on endlessly, now there did not seem to be enough. Rascal cursed his laziness and absent-mindedness as he realized how very little time he had left and the choice he would have to make before he arrived back at his home town. 'If I even have the opportunity to make that choice...' Rascal thought as his knees quivered against his belly flab. It had easily been three months since the last time a strange dog had visited and even then, they had simply talked from behind the thin wall of the exhibit. The strange dog hadn't even had a glance at her; and Rascal had wanted it exactly that way at the time. How on Earth was he supposed to get a new body when he couldn't even roll over by himself? The only other dogs he had regular contact with were Blondie and... Mohawk.

The vile though snaked its way into Rascal's mind and he was immediately disgusted with himself. How could he do that to his own son? "...And yet... he isn't technically my son. He is Rose's son." He thought quietly. "No. He is my son." Rascal reaffirmed under his breath, "Rose was never there for any of them. If she hadn't found me, none of them might have survived. They are mine, not hers." Rascal stormed under his breath as if Rose were right there with him in the exhibit. Rascal felt suddenly tired and drained and found himself drifting into a well needed doze. Deciding to do what he ought to have done long ago, that night, Rascal maneuvered the laptop out from under the bed carefully inch by inch with the power cord since he could no longer fit into the space under the bed nor drag his heavy body along the carpeted half of the trailer. Into the search box, he typed, "G-Y-P-S-Y M-Y-T-H-S J-E-W-E-l-R-Y"

They apparently had more than one stop in Tennessee as the next town the fair halted in was not Rascal's hometown. However, there was someone there who knew Rascal, or at least thought that he knew him.

The second evening in the exhibit, Rascal was staring lazily at the wall in front of him as he imagined squishing Rose under his massive weight long enough to place the earring he still wore on his collar back onto her ear, when he heard movement from beyond the wood wall separating him from the underside of the patio above. Then he heard voices.

"Sarge, what d'you got me coming under here for? All the food's on the fairway."

"Just shut your gob. I'm telling you, this brod's worth a gander."

There was a sound as the first speaker chuffed his breath in disinterest. "Are you still jawing about banging the World's Fattest Dog, R-J?"

There was some scuffling and Rascal flinched - the wave recoiling all across his smooth body - as something hit the other side of the papered wall. "I told you I was drunk!" The one called R-J growled. "But I'm telling you, this'll be good for a few laughs..."

There was a tearing sound as a nail ripped the paper between the planks just as Rose had done a hundred years ago. "Holy shit!" R-J exclaimed

"What?" asked Sarge

"She's even bigger. The bitch's got to be three times as big as before!"

"Lemme see!" demanded Sarge and there was more sounds of scuffling in the dirt and Rascal heard something hard bang against a wood support beam. The over-stuffed collie would have guessed that both had already found too much discarded beer on the fairway for one night. Eventually another rip was torn directly adjacent to the first. "That's not even real, R-J! I knew you was full of shit."

There was soft growling from the other side of the wall, "What're you talking about?"

"It's like a statue or it's a stuffed dog." Sarge said dismissively.

"Oh she's stuffed alright." R-J said, "But that's totally real. Beats the hell out of me how she got so fucking fat, though. I'd shoot myself."

"Bullshit, R-J. Everyone knows what kind of bitches you like."

This time the growling was more intense. "Everyone knows what bitches you like Sarge so I wouldn't talk!"

The thing's still stuffed. Taxidermy's all it is. Let's go."

"No wait." Said R-J. Rascal was beginning to think that he should know at least one of the dogs on the other side of the wall when the one called R-J began to bark, "Hey Fatso!"

Rascal rolled his eyes determined to ignore the taunts and then his ears lifted stalk straight as he remembered that this was exactly what he was supposed to be looking for.

"Hey Fatty! Shake that thing will ya." R-J called again through the planks as Rascal lifted his head against the rings of fat compressing it

"No fucking way." Sarge drawled at the same time his partner commented, "I told you."

Then the laughing started. "Look at her ass!" R-J started. "You can't even tell where it is anymore.

"Is that her leg or a belly roll?" laughed Sarge

"I don't know!"

Feeding into each other, each dog made the other laugh harder and harder, especially when Rascal tried to drag himself closer to the wall where they were peeping through the openings they'd torn.

"God, that thing's trying to move!"

"What a whale! I'm surprised it don't have a heart attack."

Rascal, deciding that he was close enough, had trouble forming words initially as he faced the wall the two dogs hid behind. His heart was pounding in his ears with the rage he felt at the stinging and exceedingly crude ridicule. Try as he might, he could not bring himself to say something condoning. "Are you two jackals going to sit there and giggle all night?" Rascal asked in his high, feminine voice.

"Maybe," Said R-J, "What's it to you Wide-load?"

All Rascal wanted to do was turn his back on these obnoxious jocks but he supposed it would be better if he hated them right? Rather than trading quips, he asked, "Do I know either of you?"

"What? Don't recognize my charming voice, Fat-tits?" answered the one called R-J."

"Should I?" Rascal asked honestly, though he guessed it sounded coy to the dog on the other side of the wall.

There was just a moment's pause before the angry reply, "Honey, I'm sure, I'm the only action your brontosaurus ass saw between here and LA."

"Yeah, he's the only one drunk enough to do it, I'm surprised he found his way out of those folds." Sarge chipped in. There was more growling from R-J's part and as the two males roughhoused unseen behind the wall, Rascal realized that he was speaking to the father of the litter which he'd delivered and then raised all the past year.

The realization hit Rascal like a brick wall and left him momentarily unable to speak. However he knew he had to react when R-J said, "Come on, Sarge. I've had enough of this two-ton freak."

"Wait!" Rascal said frantically. He had no way of knowing if the dogs paused or had kept going, but he said, "Why don't you two stay for a bit?"

There wasn't a response save for one of them laughing under his breath. It was then that Rascal realized that he needed to handle this exactly the way Rose had handled him. He swallowed before saying, "I've been very lonely here by myself. Two strong dogs such as yourselves might be able to keep me some company."

R-J laughed again. "Sorry, fatty, but once is enough for me. I don't want to get squashed."

Rascal cursed under his breath and longed for the days when he was "just" morbidly obese. He tried a different approach, "Do you let your friend do all the talking for you, Sarge?"

"He talks enough for three dogs." Sarge commented. "But he's all hot air."

Pressing his paws as firmly against the wood, Rascal scooted his acres of skin and fur forward over the wood paneled floor. It was killing what masculinity was left inside of him, but Rascal forced himself to say, "Are you lonely Sarge? I know I am."

"Heh... you're not quite my kind of bitch, sweet-hart." Said Sarge

"Come on, let's go." Said R-J. Through the slits in the wall, Rascal saw some movement and realized it was a rather heavy yellow lab tugging at the collar of a green eyed Golden Retriever.

"Oh, come on..." Rascal cooed and he finally caught Sarge's eye. "I'm up for anything you like.

R-J continued to tug at Sarge's collar and finally got him off his feet, but the Golden continued to look at Rascal's blue eyes as he allowed himself to be pulled away. Rascal added, "I'll be outside my trailer tonight if you're interested in some free fun, my handsome stud dog."

There was no reply as the dogs disappeared out of sight and Rascal was left hoping that the act would pay off. Later, he would look into his reflection in his water dish and observe the shape of snout, the high curve of his cheek bones and his unusual and alluring blue eyes. He would wonder, 'Who am I?'

That night, Rascal got himself put out as early as possible. He only hoped that whoever, if anyone, showed up, it would be well before the time that his two pups came to visit. Rascal pawed at the dirt in anticipation. The terrain spread out under his vast belly was as clear as a map to him as he felt every bump, pebble and ridge. His tail slowly waved and Rascal would lift his head every now and then to analyze the breeze. In the end, he didn't have to wait long.

He arrived alone, cautiously traversing the ground as if afraid that he were going to be caught; which, Rascal supposed, was a fair guess. The Golden Retriever sniffed his way to Rascal's hulking form spread widely out on the grass. The collie could smell the fumes coming off the dog like a brewery smokestack.

"Hey there." Rascal greeted, lifted his head high against the fatty rolls of the back of his neck, but the Golden offered no response, instead eyeing Rascal and looking him up and down.

When he finally spoke, it was in a business-like tone. "You shaid you'd do what I wan' to do?" he asked only slurring his words slightly.

There was a gleam in his eye that Rascal didn't like, but he knew that this was going to be his only shot, even if it meant forfeiting the last of his identity as a "male." Rascal made his voice as husky as he could by thinking of a heavyset collie bitch. "I'm ready for anything you've got, Sarge."

The Golden winced slowly, "Ugh... no names. I don't wan' there to be 'ny'names."

"Alright, be whoever you want to be and I'll be whoever you want me to be." Said Rascal slanted his eyes the way he would want his partner to do.

For a moment, Rascal was afraid that the Golden had lost his nerve, that he was going to change his mind and leave, but then Rascal realized that the dog in front of him was just as frightened as he was. The Golden hesitated, "Le... Lemme touch your... your paws."

Rascal cocked his head in surprise but assented. The golden came forward and laid down at an angle to Rascal's rear. With extreme care and gentleness he began to caress and massage one of Rascal's hind paws. Every so often, he would lick the pads with his moist tongue, making sure to get it deep between the paws. A couple minutes passed before the Golden commanded, "Roll over so I can see all of them."

Rascal could hardly believe what this dog was doing, but he wasn't about to tell him no. Assuming he meant all of his paws, Rascal proceeded to shove against his flank with two paws. Sometimes he could get it and sometimes he couldn't, now the obstacle of his flank was not wanting to relent despite Rascal's brute shoving with his atrophied limbs. "Uh.. A little help please?" Rascal said and the Golden laughed, but pleasantly.

"Damn, you really are huge aren't ya?" said Sarge as he got up and pressed against Rascal with the side of his body.

Slowly Rascal turned, his pudge oozing over the grass and dirt. "I think I do qualify as 'Huge.'" Rascal laughed as he turned his paws to face the Golden. He had a little trouble with his left rear paw, however as it was mostly trapped under the extensive paunch which covered it past the ankle. The fur which now coated his belly extended a few more inches down so only the tip of the white sock was visible. Sarge seemed to find this incredibly interesting as he fondled the protruding digits of Rascal's buried foot, jiggling the heavy sack of a gut in the process.

Sarge's breath was noticeably heavier now as touched and manipulated each of Rascal's furry paws, three of which had white socks. "Your paws are really soft..." he said huskily, "You... you must not walk on them much, eh?" he said the last with a grin and a wink.

Rascal was actually able to smile for real as he looked back at the Golden's wanting face. "No I certainly don't. In fact I hardly ever use them anymore really." Said Rascal embellishing for Sarge's sake. The Golden pressed one of Rascal's forepaws against his face. "...Soft like a puppy's..." he muttered, and the collie could smell the pheromones thick in his breath.

Sarge stood up and walked forward a little. Standing over Rascal, he could see the male's full erection. Sarge's eyes were glossy with his need. "Touch me." He said, "Touch me with those soft paws."

Rascal hesitated, it seemed that the time for pretend had passed as he looked up at the swollen member and became acutely aware of his own lack of one. Rascal made an excuse, "You're a little high, I can't quite..." said Rascal where he lay on his side on the ground.

"What?" snapped Sarge and then he looked down at Rascal's bloated body. "Oh I see..."

The Golden got down on the ground and turned his belly toward Rascal. "Is this better?"

"Y-yeah." Rascal muttered. He didn't have a choice. He needed to do this despite the frayed strands of his psyche screaming no. Rascal reached out as best he could with the bulbous sacs of shoulder fat weighing his forepaws down. He felt Sarge and he was surprisingly hot to the touch and firm with his need. Rascal knew what Sarge wanted and he gave it to him.

In the end, it was easy. Sarge, after a brief pause went back to fondling all four of Rascal's paws in increasingly odd ways. He would rub the pads against his teeth one minute and then, with his paw over one or two of Rascal's press down so hard on his sack that Rascal would wince with the imagined pain. Then Sarge apparently found that he liked pressing Rascal's paws deeply into the collie's own pudge, watching the flesh bounce back from the craters the paws created, laughing as it happened. Rascal had to tend to Sarge once more, but after that, the Golden became surprisingly amiable, stroking Rascal's flanks uneasily, but with a real desire to please.

After he ran his paw up Rascal's midsection tracing a claw over the scar which sat at the center of a deep valley between the rows of thick nipples, Sarge asked, "Do you wan' me to..." he waved his paws in the air and at first Rascal did not understand what he was getting at.

"Do what exactly?"

"Oh, I mean, you've been very... very nice with me and all my weird stuff. I jusht though' that you'd want... something... in return." There was an uneasy expression on the Golden's face that told Rascal he wasn't looking forward to whatever Rascal "wanted."

And then all of a sudden Rascal knew. "Oh!" he exclaimed so fast Sarge's ears perked up in surprise. "I mean, oh, I see what you mean." Rascal amended to his night's partner. Rascal was completely sure that he did not want what Sarge was offering, but he tried not to sound too blunt. "That's alright... You've done enough for me already tonight..." A thought struck Rascal, "But perhaps you'd like to take this..." Rascal reached up and batted the jeweled earring hanging from his now tripled up collar.

"Was' that?" asked the inebriated Golden squinting in the gloom.

"Just a little..." Rascal could hardly believe he was saying this, "token of my friendship. A reward for visiting me."

"Ah... I shouldn't" said the Golden, "You already gave me all I need."

Rascal tried to remember what Rose had said to him almost a year ago. "It's just costume jewelry. It'll just pinch a bit."

Rascal lifted the ear piece forward and either Sarge accepted or his reflexes were so shot he didn't react.

Sarge laughed a little bit as Rascal pulled his head down with his free paw by tugging at his collar. "Alright, go ahead, big stuff. Whatever you want."

Rascal hesitated as he held the sharp prong above the skin of Sarge's right ear. Sure this dog had laughed with him earlier with his jerk-friend R-J, but Rascal knew the burden of carrying a desire that was not mainstream. Sarge had seemed almost pathetic in his ministrations of Rascal's paws. And then, after the heat of his own desire had past, he had been willing to give that pleasure back even if for him it would have been uncomfortable. Rascal thought of the pups he'd be leaving behind. How they had chosen to forsake a stable home to be with their mother and how Rascal was about to leave them with someone who wouldn't even recognize them. They would never understand what happened.

Rascal thought about these things in a moment, but then he thought about the way he felt when he woke up in the morning, the way people stared at him from above all day long and how he practically pissed himself every time he needed to go outside because he couldn't even lift his gut off the ground.

The needle came down and Sarge barely flinched as it passed cleanly through his ear. He laughed, "That's pretty."

Rascal smirked unhappily, "Yeah, it's pretty."

The Golden, apparently satisfied with his entertainment for the evening, got up and bid Rascal goodnight before he walked crookedly out into the night. Rascal set his head on his paws and brooded.

As his heart rate eased, Rascal began to feel drowsy and the night deepened. His breath wheezed in and out through his compressed trachea and the lights and rides of the fair flashed on and off as he blinked with heavy lids. His lids came down once more, but when he opened them again, he was in a different place...

Rose wandered through the bushes and empty ground outside of the bubble of light and sound that was the fair grounds. She walked with a smooth confident gait and no one, not even another dog, would have been able to guess that just one year prior, she'd been a morbidly obese, 8-year old female. She was looking for someone whose appearance should have been drastically altered some time in the last year.

She stepped up the pace from a trot into a jog, her paws seemingly weightless and unbound. The collie body, at only 42 lbs was rather lacking in brawn, but it certainly made up for it in speed and energy. Rose felt like she could run forever. And indeed, this was her second circuit around the fairgrounds this evening, but she was willing to wait as long as it took.

The moment that she'd let the earrings pass out of her possession, she'd regretted it. Despite knowing the ease with which she could acquire them from their temporary owner, they were still out wandering across the country. She had felt uneasy the entire year having them beyond her immediate reach in case of an emergency. Now, however, her heart beat with anticipation.

A year of doing the house-pet thing had been nice, but the humans back at the house were smothering with their affections and Rose had not been able to get out to do her own thing nearly enough. She could definitely use a change of pace. Not to mention the fact that Rascal had developed a poor reputation with the local bitches that had proven to be an annoying obstruction despite Rose's newfound virility.

Rose spotted a shape moving ahead and darted towards it. That charming collie boy could have his body back... just so long as he didn't show up as a Chihuahua or something.

The shape turned out to be a rather handsome looking Golden with a soft face. Rose looked at him with an appraising eye, particularly towards the eyes, teeth, paws and sex. "Rascal?" she asked officiously.

The Golden returned Rose's stare with only mild surprise. "Y-yeah." He said.

And then Rose spotted it, the seemingly worthless bit of amethyst and copper dangling from Rascal's right ear. Her heart began to race with the need of it. She forced herself to remain calm, however, as she walked forward and sniffed the rear of what would potentially be her new body.

"Un-neutered... good." Declared Rose. She reached out and pinched the Golden's flank. "A bit soft, but I suppose it will do."

Rascal frowned as Rose continued her cutthroat appraisal. "Any joint pain, weakness, headaches?" she asked.

Rascal chuckled, "Like I would tell you if I did."

Rose grinned, "Smart puppy. Let's see those choppers." The Golden relented and Rose settled back down onto her haunches after her inspection. "A little older than I was wanting, but I guess it will have to do. You're family's such a bore."

Rascal showed no reaction. "Let's just get this over with." He said.

"Sure." Rose agreed. "Hand over the earring."

Rascal winced as he drew the prick from the still fresh wound in his left ear. Rose snatched it out of his paw as he offered it to her. She had missed the tactile sensation of holding it. Rose held the earring to her breast a moment before raising it to her own ear. "Alright kiddo, we're almost done here. Just put the other earring in your right ear and you'll be back with those screaming brats in no time."

"I don't have it."

Rose felt like a blood vessel burst in her eye. "What do you mean you don't have it?!" she said as she bolted upright and nearly slammed into the larger canine.

"I-I never took it off the other... er, body." Said Rascal, balking away from the smaller collie despite having a good 20 lbs over her.

"Idiot!" Rose cursed and she charged Rascal again, making him jump away to avoid a punishing bite. "If I didn't hate dog clothes so much, I'd leave you as a stray Golden!" Rose was fuming and it took more than a minute to calm herself. The other dog remained quiet and subdued.

Rose caught her breath. "Alright... Alright. We'll just go and get the other earring from Fatty and we can all go live happily ever after. Sound good?"

"Yeah..." muttered the Golden.

Rose started forward but looked behind. "Come on!" she barked, "You're coming too, this is your fault and you're going to deal with all the drama, not me."

With a heavy sigh, the Golden trotted after Rose and down into the lighted fair grounds.

The trailer door loomed tall over both dogs. The sight of it stirred unpleasant memories for Rose.

"She's in there." Said Rascal, sniffing at the bottom seem of the door. "You won't believe how fat she's gotten."

Rose grunted noncommittally. "It wouldn't surprise me. Let's get this over with."

Rose took a step forward, intending to rear up and open the latch with her paws, but she had a second thought. She paused and noted the look on Rascal's face.

"Aren't you g-going to open it?" he asked.

Suspicion curled Rose's white eyebrows. "No, I think you are going to open it."

"M-me? Why?" asked a now clearly nervous Rascal.

"Why not?" snapped Rose. She turned a withering look on him which caused the larger dog to shrink. "Unless something bad is going to happen to me when I open it."

"Of-of course not! Don't be ridiculous." Said the Golden whose tail had flown very far south.

"Then open the damn door." Rose intoned.

The Golden had no choice. He walked up to the trailer door, dragging his feet and reared up. He barely managed to jump out of the way as the door flung open and a huge, black and white mass tumbled down out of the opening, landing on the floor with a loud smack.

Rose realized then that what appeared to be an amorphous blob at first was actually a dog. The size was easily twice what she remembered and was so obese that most of the distinguishable canine features had been erased by the swelling fat. The blob moaned from the impact and asked, "Did... did I get her?"

"Jesus H Christ!" swore Rose at the immensity of the canine which easily dwarfed the other two dogs put together. Rose was honestly more stunned by the size of her previous body than by the obvious attempt at a trap. Rose turned to the Golden and smiled. "Nice try, hon, but I told you I've been around the block more times than you can count. However, you can just kiss your family goodbye for what you just tried to pull. I always wind up on top." She said as she moved over to the prone and absurdly obese dog, the remaining earring glinting in its right ear. She reached over the dog whose head seemed to protrude neck-less from its shoulders which were easily as wide as Rascal was long. The collie's eyes turned upward, but its head remained hopelessly encased by fat. Rose grabbed hold of the last earring, intent on ripping it free from its unworthy host. She turned back to make sure the Golden wasn't going to try something stupid. "Well, it's a good thing you swapped when you did, Rascal. Fatty here looks ready for plucking and roasting."

Strangely the Golden smiled. He said, "I'm not Rascal."

"What?" said Rose and she looked down to where the obese collie was grinning up at her. Rose growled. "Idiot!" she cursed and pulled the earring away, eliciting a loud yip from the unbelievably bloated Rascal.

"You leave Mother alone!" came a sudden cry and Rose found herself flying backward and landing hard on her back, something black, furry and about 2/3 of her size impacting her chest. Rose, with a practiced smoothness bit the young collie on the leg as he recoiled knocked him off of her. She was up in an instant, but she had lost the earring in the impact. She saw it on the ground and dove for it. The second she had it, she'd outrun all of these losers. Her paws closed around it, but then a set of teeth locked onto her ruff. Golden fur flew in her face as she bit and clawed the new assailant. Just as she got rid of the golden, pain in her right haunch told her that the young collie had come back for more. "Get off me, you little runt!" she cried and kicked him off, scratching him good across the snout.

The heavy weight of the larger Golden slammed into her from the other side as he tackled her. Luckily, Rose landed in something soft, completely unharmed. She rolled off and onto the ground. "You bastards have no clue who you're trifling with!"

"No I don't think, you know who you're trifling with." Said a feminine voice. Something big was moving behind her. Suddenly Rose was pressed beneath a massive weight, horribly soft and heavy at the same time. The weight flattened her completely, Rose couldn't move an inch, it was all she could do to breathe... barely.

Rascal, now lying on top of Rose with her head barely protruding from under his titanic belly, said, "You're trifling with the... World's fattest dog!"

"It's true too, in terms of the weight to length ratio." Serge chimed in.

"Ermph!" grunted Rose.

Rascal was panting already, "Yeah... kinda heavy... right?"

"You... Fat... Fuck..." managed Rose with her jaw pressed flat against the ground.

Tongue lolling happily out of the side of his mouth, Rascal said, "I'm... sorry. Didn't quite... get that."

Rose continued to squirm, but Rascal's weight was irresistible and worse, was slowly pressing the air out of her body.

Mohawk limped toward his mother and her new friend, a victorious smile on his face, "Who is that collie Mama? Why'd he want your earring?"

Rascal sighed heavily. "Not now Mohawk. I'll explain things later." When the pup proved to be reluctant to leave, he added, "Go on Mohawk. I mean it."

When Mohawk left, Serge commented, "We don't have much time left."

Rascal could feel that Rose was struggling to breathe under his oppressive weight. "Alright, Serge, go get me that earring back."

Rose piped up despite the pressure crushing her lungs, "You... can't... Won't... work..."

"Oh, I think it will. In fact, I know it will because me and Serge have already swapped back bodies once." Rascal explained

Rose's eyes looked like they were going to fly out of her head.

"We swapped with you wearing the left ear and me the right. Well, I've found out that, like a circuit, the earrings can be reversed. All you have to do is swap ears. My left ear - which like a dick, you almost tore out of my head - and your right ear."

"...Nnnooo..." Rose mumbled as she struggled to draw shallow breaths. The tips of her paws worked the soil in front of her ineffectually.

Serge came back and carefully re-punctured Rascal's left ear above the new tear. "Ouch, that stings. I hate earrings!" Rascal complained. Serge only laughed.

Rose tried to struggle, but she was almost out of it as the Golden put the remaining earring in the correct ear.

"We need to get you off of him as soon as he's out." Serge said.

Rascal relaxed, feeling better than he had in a long time despite the pain in his ear. "I'll do my part when the time comes. And Serge?" Rascal looked long into the Golden's face, "Thank you so much for everything."

Serge laughed, "Well, just consider my part of the bargain complete then. You could've just left me like I was, fatter than a cow and a girl to boot."

Rascal shook his head against the fat pressing against his cheeks. "No, I couldn't. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself." Rascal attempted to turn his head to look at Rose, but his fat collars defeated him. "Besides, I wouldn't be able to go home as you. I miss my family."

Serge sighed, "...Well, I couldn't have left you like that either. Not after knowing how bad it feels being that big... Though I can't help but think you were enjoying yourself in the week it took to figure out how to swap back." The Golden winked at Rascal as they both waited on Rose. Sarge spoke more seriously, "What I don't understand is why you let yourself get that big in the first place. You said you were half that size when you started."

Rascal shrugged, or at least thought he did, the expression did not show from under the dense layers of fat rounding his shoulders. "I don't really know." He admitted, though, as he felt the slender form wriggling weakly under his bulk a new idea came to mind. "I think, maybe, I was getting it ready for Rose."

Serge grinned with a knowing smile as Rose finally passed out. "Ok, Rascal, you need to push too..."

By the time Rascal was six years old, he weighed in excess of 80 lbs. His family had finally started filling his bowl with diet formula dog food which seemed tasteless and dry. He'd gone on a hunger strike at first, but in the end , wound up eating it and learning to get past the flavor as he chewed. Three months on the new diet and though Rascal had yet to start dropping pounds - thanks mostly in part to the young children fetching delicious morsels for him - he was more than ready for the fair this year.

With his tank of a belly, it was difficult escaping from the yard this year on the night of Aunt Lucinda's visit, but all Rascal had to do was think back to times when he couldn't even get his belly clear from the ground to motivate himself forward.

This year, like the one before, he did not head straight for the fairway and its alluring scents of fried deliciousness. The first thing he went for was the acrobatics show which now featured a brilliant border collie who could walk upright and even ride a bicycle. Rascal was even more impressed than last year at the stunts the dog whose given name was Dizzie, performed. The white streak that extended from the top of Dizzie's head to the base of his neck flashed again and again as he ran and barked on command with the other acrobats. It was quite a show. Rascal would have to wait until night for him to visit with the famous show dog, however.

That night, after liberally gorging himself like he couldn't any other time of the year, Rascal found himself outside the acrobats' tent. Dizze poked his head out from under the flap when he sensed that Rascal was near.

"Can I help you?" Dizzie asked.

Rascal smiled, embarrassed. "Er, do you remember me? From last year?"

Dizzie's eyes lit up in recognition, "Oh yeah! Um.. What was your name again?"

"Rascal." Said the collie with a smile.

"Yeah, Rascal. How're ya doing?"

"Oh getting along, I suppose. Getting older and fatter." Rascal stuck out his tongue and Dizzie laughed. "I see that you've pretty much become the star of the show."

Dizzie grinned, "Yeah, pretty much. But now I can hardly step outside of the tent without somebody coming and looking for me."

Rascal sat and rubbed his protruding belly. He looked away, "Yeah, I know what that's like. It's tough not being able to get out much."

They shared some light talk, Dizzie wanted to know about the local news and Rascal wanted to know about the national news. The talked about the weather and about humans in general.

Finally, Rascal asked, "How is your mother getting along?"

The light went out of Dizzie's face. "Oh... she... she passed about two months ago. She got a bad case of pneumonia and just... couldn't fight it."

Rascal's ears dropped, he hadn't been expecting to hear that. "I'm so sorry."

Dizzie looked away, "It's... it's alright. She was eleven... and nobody expected her to live as long as she did."

"Still, it's tough losing a parent." Said Rascal. "I wish I had known mine, even though it would have been more painful."

Dizzie smiled a small smile. "Yeah, she'd always been amazing to me, despite what people thought and said about her. The last two years were a little different, to be honest with you, but I could tell she always loved me. She even managed to lose 60 pounds before... before..."

Rascal put a paw on Dizzie's head and the younger canine looked up with watery eyes. "You don't have to say any more. I'm sure that you two were close."

Dizzie smiled. "You know, I still don't understand why you and Mom were fighting that one time. Do you remember?"

Rascal chuckled, "Oh, how could I forget, I was coughing for a week after that little episode." Rascal lowered himself just a little stiffly to the ground and faced Dizze eye to eye. "It was all just a terrible misunderstanding; all due to a very stupid mistake on my part."

Dizzie grinned and looked at the floor, seemingly lost in memories for a moment. When the young collie looked up, he spotted the jewel hanging from Rascal's collar. "Hey, that looks like the thing my Mom used to wear on her ear.

Rascal looked down with apparent surprise, "Oh this? It's just costume jewelry, a memento. A good friend of mine keeps the other piece."

"That Retriever?" Dizzie asked.

Rascal laughed, "That's right. Boy I haven't seen him since that night."

"He's doing well." Said Dizzie. "We always stop there two to three week before we come here. "I've never seen another dog willingly wear booties, but then everyone has their quirks."

Rascal chuffed, "Indeed they do."

The two dogs talked a bit longer, but Rascal could tell that his visit was beginning to wear thin as the younger dog's behind was antsy on the floor. "Never can keep still long, can ya?" asked Rascal as he rose.

Dizzie laughed, "Never. It's a collie thing."

"I was the exact same way when I was younger." Said Rascal, turning to go. The obese collie paused to look back at the still watching "Dizzie."

"Take care, Mohawk." Rascal said, not looking back, before beginning the trek back to his warm house and his waiting family.