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It took more time to bring Pink Nose, Terrier-face and the shepherd-lab up to my level of understanding of language. During that time, life was busy but fairly uneventful save for another litter of male pups being delivered and three more dogs being taken, but we were used to that. Besides, the dogs who were disappearing now seemed to be the oldest ones on the leaner side. So I was actually more fearful for my brother than any of my other fattened conspirators who largely made up the heaviest segment of the population. There was, however a brief spat when the Sheperherd-Lab was learning what I was calling everyone else.

As names went, pretty much everyone just accepted what I was calling them in my head as they advanced their understanding of language to that point. Except for the shepherd-lab for whom I didn't really have a name, largely because I made up affectionate names for the dogs who were my friends and though the shepherd-lab was my friend now at this point I hadn't stopped thinking of him as "the shepherd-lab" in my head, which in my dog brain was more a recognition of his scent and the shape of his body than a translatable name. The shepherd-lab had an odd reaction when he learned Fatty's nickname, but didn't act on it straight away. It would be two days later before he got into a fight with his former beta.

Despite the fact that he was still suffering when he was standing, that didn't stop the shepherd-lab from wrestling Fatty to the ground one day. They rolled on the grass for a while before I got there. Honestly, if not for the difference between their coat colors, it would be difficult to tell where one dog stopped and the other started. They were both fleshy dogs and the shepherd-lab had begun a rebound, having gained back already most of the weight he'd lost during his absence, even if he was still eating less than before. Fatty, though had continued to put on weight so there was not such an incredible size difference between the two now as before.

Fatty grabbed some loose flesh from the shepherd-lab's neck, but the former alpha pulled heedlessly. In fact, he rose despite the teeth in his neck, his skin stretching and stretching. It was even looser than before. The middle of his neck stretched farther then the total length of his neck as the Shepherd-lab rose and then got on top of Fatty. I could see the shepherd-lab's side swelling under the tight sheet of tan fur connecting his neck to Fatty's honestly shocked and surprised face. It was only a partial pin, but the sight of the shepherd-lab's neck like that was indeed impressive and drew many a dogs' eyes from around the yard. Then the shepherd-lab spoke down at mutt underneath him, "Who's... Fatty... now?" he panted.

When I jogged to them, I made Fatty let go and the skin pulled back, but not quite in the shape it had been before. Then I told the shepherd-lab to get off of him. He did, but smugly, as if he'd made the point he'd wanted to. But the fact that he was completely winded for the spat seemed to ruin it. Fatty walked off and the shepherd-lab just laid down where he was at. He had indeed fallen far since our fight. But that didn't stop the anger I felt at him because it was obvious who had picked the fight. "Why did you attack Fatty? You're acting like an idiot."

The the shepherd-lab didn't respond to my taunt. Instead he said, "He's not Fatty. I'm Fatty."

I took a step back, "What?"

Then he looked up at me as he continued to pant hard, "I'm fatter... than he is. I'm Fatty!"

It was then I realized that the shepherd-lab was jealous of the name I'd given his former beta. When I did, I laughed, and the shepherd-lab cocked his head in confusion at me. "It's just a nickname." I told him, "It doesn't mean anything."

The shepherd-lab looked away and didn't say anything. I sighed and padded over to him. I put a paw lightly on his heaving belly. "I know you're fatter than he is." I jiggled him a little. "You're very fat!" I said enthusiastically.

The shepherd-lab turned his head and I caught a gleam of his old self in his eyes. "I'm fatter than you."

Indeed he was, but I put a bit of a growl into my voice as I replied. "But I'm still Alpha." Some things were different with us, but we were still dogs at heart.

He nodded and I knew that what he'd said hadn't been a real challenge. Then he laid his head down on the ground, still panting hard... harder perhaps than necessary given the brevity of the fight.

I knelt down at his head. "Are you alright?"

He didn't look up at me, but said, "Chest.. Hurts..."

He said it casually, and I certainly didn't know enough to take it anything but casually. I remember what my chest felt like after my fight with him and I thought that was what he meant. I walked down his back and sat before putting a paw on him. I stroked him for a little while and that seemed to calm him. It felt almost like when the lab tech petted us at meals and after hours. I waited for him to catch his breath, but as always with him, it took a long time. When he was just breathing heavily, I said. "Let's think of a name for you."

His ears perked at that against the fat roll welling behind his head. "Yes!" he exclaimed with his tail.

"Alright..." I started and then stalled. Suddenly I found it hard to recall how I'd come up with the others' names. It had just come to me, within moments of seeing them the first time. Right now, however, I was drawing a blank. I rocked the tub-dog's fat a bit with both paws firmly against the top of his swollen flank. "How about Rolly?"

The shepherd-lab looked at me crossly over his shoulder, nose in the air.

"Ok, that's a little silly." I backpedaled. I scanned the shepherd-lab's body, desperately trying to think of something. Looking over him, his body reminded me of a vast reservoir of semisolid flesh. "Tubby?" I offered.

The shepherd-lab shook his head. "Terrier-face is tubby, I'm more than tubby. Can't you think of something not-so-cute?"

I was about to recommend "Picky," but then I realized that might only further bruise the shepherd-lab's fragile ego. I sighed, and reached over his flank to jostle the dog's gargantuan stomach, resting my chest on his ribs in the process. I knew that the shepherd-lab liked this. He had told me that when his belly was shaking, it reminded him how big it was. How he ever forgot was a mystery to me, but then sometimes I thought that I might know eventually. Certainly my waistline was growing, no matter that the size of my body was getting bigger with it. For now, at least, he had this to himself and when I thought of a "Fat" dog, my mind conjured up the bloated shape of the shepherd-lab.

As I shook his paunch, the shepherd-lab's breaths calmed more so that he was able to close his mouth partially and breathe through his nose as much as his mouth. I honestly was out of ideas for names when he spoke. "Can I name myself?" he asked me curiously, honestly not knowing the answer.

Having been taught by the black lab, I felt that each dog ought to be able to name himself intrinsically, no matter that so far it hadn't happened. "Of course," I answered. "I'll call you whatever you want."

"Well then..." and the shepherd-lab shifted his massive bulk. I got off of him and he rolled across his stomach all the way until his paunch was spread out in all its glory in front of me. He finished, "Call me Fat Gut."

I grinned and let my tongue roll out happily. "Alright, you'll be Fat Gut alright. As long as you don't mind my gut getting fatter one day!"

He laughed a laugh that shook that gorgeous paunch. "Never gonna happen!" he cheered carelessly. Then I growled playfully and tackled him and we rolled in the grass for a long while until he was tired again.

Summer was clearly over and we began getting some autumn storms. Time seems endless to us dogs and the span of less than a year seemed good enough for a lifetime already, and yet the days did still march on, one after another and that has always been a source of surprise for me. When it stormed, all of the dogs would take shelter in the concrete house which would alway have its heating turned on for the occasion. It was getting to be somewhat of a tight fit. The spring puppies were all much larger; though none were nearly as large as I was, nobody was regardless of their age. And for all of the dogs disappearing this year, more dogs had arrived than been taken.

I had to take control at these time and make sure that not too much space was being wasted. I made the young dogs huddle up closer and not spread their legs and I squeezed the smallest puppies into the nooks and crannies where they fit. They wanted to be surrounded by the warm bodies of the big dogs anyways, some just needed help finding good spots. The biggest dogs needed the most space and I couldn't start lining everyone up belly to back because the skin contact would make everyone too hot In a flash. But for the most part the dogs arranged themselves appropriately and I only occasionally had to intervene.

While we were trapped with a storm raging just outside the shelter of the house, I decided that we might as well have a Talkie. Terrier-face piped up as we were settling down; some of us taking more time than others. "This has got to be the worst storm ever!"

Indeed, it was bad outside. The wind was gusting so hard that I could sometimes hear tree branches snapping off in the woods beyond the research center. Sometimes things even banged into the side of the building itself. Still it wasn't like falling water was inherently dangerous. We certainly had no clothes to ruin or get soggy. Still, I preferred to stay in the house where it was warm and dry and so did pretty much every other dog, even if the musty smell of damp fur was pervasive inside there. "It's the worst storm that I can recall." I admitted.

Fat Gut was still adjusting his huge body. It was awkward given the limited space he had without stepping on or unintentionally lying on the other dogs around him; second to myself, he needed the biggest space. He woofed a breath softly that lifted his jowls. "There was a storm last year that was worse than this."

I was reminded then how much older than me and most of the rest of us Fat Gut was. Of course, he might have said that specifically to remind us that he was. He was wily by nature and starting to apply that to his speech as well. The massively overweight canine settled himself and although he was facing the rest of us, his namesake paunch was piled up against Pink Nose's back. The brown lab didn't seem to mind though, so I said nothing.

Instead, Pink Nose lifted his nose thoughtfully, "Last year... Were you spring born?"

Fat Gut moved his head a little away from the close brown lab. "Yes, spring born." He said because we as yet had no months to our sense of time. "Late spring."

Because there was something about this topic that was itching my brain, I asked Fat Gut another question about what I felt to be the distant past. "How many dogs are left from last year?"

Fat Gut sniffed and started looking around the chamber where all the other dogs in the yard were lying down. "Me and Fatty and Terrier-face." The big dog grunted.

"I was born in the fall." Terrier-face interjected.

Fat Gut snapped in the beta's direction in retribution for the interruption. "There's that tubby shepherd-mix over there." I looked and saw a dog who was mostly german shepherd, but he had one ear which was pricked and the other which was always floppy. "There's that chubby blond labrador." Fat Gut indicated the bloated figure of the next fattest dog here after Pink Nose. I thought he was pretty fat, but Fat Gut obviously considered himself and Fatty as the only "Fat" dogs here. "And also the golden-lab next to him." That particular dog was as big as the yellow lab next to him. Both were snoring softly already, intent on sleeping out the storm.

Fat Gut pointed out three more and invariably they were the three next heaviest dogs of the yard, and the last dogs who were fatter than me. I didn't know if the shepherd-lab had listed them off in descending order of fatness on purpose or not, but for me it painted a rather clear picture. "It looks like they've taken all the skinny dogs from last year." I announced when Fat Gut had completed his list. For Pink Nose, this came as a revelation, but the others needed more time and a better explanation to fully understand what I meant and how I'd reached that conclusion.

Terrier-face was the first to ask, "What does it mean that they've taken out all the thinner dogs?"

Fatty voiced with some apprehension quivering his soft form, "They don't want us cause we're too big?

Fat Gut snapped quickly, "Of course they want us big! You see how they act around us!"

I had to agree, that was beyond question from each of our personal experiences. Pink Nose chimed in, "Perhaps they've been taken cause they don't want them instead."

I thought that made much more sense. But there was something still bothering me about this whole situation. "Fat Gut." I turned to him because he was the oldest and seemed to have a sound memory. "I don't remember any dogs being as large as us when I first came here this spring. There was the collie, but even he wasn't so big as us now."

With an ear twitch, Fat Gut elicited a good scratch from Pink Nose. After he was finished, Fat Gut replied. "That's because all the biggest dogs last year were taken during winter."

"What?!" I and the other dogs besides Fatty exclaimed. Then I remembered something the black lab had told me, how the old Alpha before the collie had been taken and the shepherd-lab and him had been left to out grow each other. I hadn't been given any specific time, but almost without a doubt this was the event that had taken the Alpha. I just didn't know that all of the very fat dogs had been taken as well.

Fatty lifted his head at us and our gaping mouths. "You all seem surprised." He glanced at Terrier-face. "You shouldn't be, you were there."

The lightest dog of the group besides Dizzy and Spinner shook his head slowly. "I don't... remember so good when I was young."

Fat Gut butted in again, apparently enjoying unveiling this on me and the others. "Why are you worried. I'm looking forward to this winter. We'll all get to leave together."

I had nothing to say to that. Even though the selection and disappearance of dogs filled me with unconscious dread, I had no proof at all that where the scientists were taking us was bad in any way. In fact, it seemed like a privilege to many a dog... and least until the idea that the ones being selected all year long were actually rejects of one sort or another. But that didn't explain the disappearance of the collie early this year, nor the other heavier dogs in the spring before the selection criteria seemed to change to favor those of slighter frame. There was so much that I didn't know and it seemed this conversation just shed light on even more stuff I didn't know.

"I wonder what it's like..." I said aloud and their heads turned towards me.

"What what's like?" asked Fatty.

I waved a paw vaguely, "The place they take us."

"Maybe its like the inside of the vet's office..." ventured Pink Nose.

"I hope its not like that..." whined terrier-face.

"Wherever it is, I hope they give us lots of food." Said Fat Gut, wiggling his belly which was threatening to spill over Pink Nose's back with its quivering. "Maybe even better food, eh, Topsy?"

I glanced up at Fat Gut questioningly then I looked at the other three, all grinning. "What was that you called me?" I asked.

"You're name." Said Fat Gut and then Pink Nose let me in on the joke.

"You gave us each our names..." Suddenly Fat Gut rocked the chocolate lab with the force of his behemoth belly, and Pink Nose grunted, amending, "Well Fat Gut named himself, but you gave the rest of us our names."

"So it's only fair that we give you one." Fat Gut finished, obviously relishing this revelation. The dog part of me questioned how rebellious this behavior was getting, but I couldn't let that feeling dampen my spirits.

Pink Nose lifted his head up, fighting for the limelight. "We say Topsy cause you're the Alpha."

"And because you're freakishly tall!" butted in Fat Gut, getting the last word.

"Topsy..." I let the word roll off my tongue. Sometimes, especially in the start, it felt like I was the only one in the whole group who was thinking deeper thoughts and acting with motivation not based on instinct and primal urges. But here was definite proof that I was not alone, that these dogs, my students and in turn ultimately students of the black lab who'd taught me, had taken this knowledge and were playing with it, twisting it and making new things; their own things. And so I had a name and it was not one given to me by the ever watchful but absent humans. It was given to me by my friends and - no matter what the hierarchy told me - my peers. I was more than happy to accept it. "Yeah. I like the sound of that."

The others breathed a collective sigh of relief. "So... Topsy." Said Pink Nose, leering at me. "You have a name now finally. What are you going to do now?"

"Well for starters, I think I'm going to take a nap." That earned some laughs, but we really did end up taking a hiatus. You can't really expect all of us to maintain interest in just talking indefinitely; even the calmer ones. We weren't human.