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Description
“Oh my goodness, he's gained a whole pound!” the woman shrieked, staring incredulously at the scale.  I stared at the man, the man who'd gained a whole pound, and looked a little incredulous myself.  He could stand to gain ten more pounds! There was a foot of snow on the ground outside, which meant winter.  Which meant good holiday food.  Which meant a little extra around the waist line.
I stared down at my own pudgy belly, my little rolls pressing gently against my thighs.  My woman called them love handles, and said they were adorable.  When we watched scary movies at night she would wrap her arms around me and dig her fingers into my belly.  If they were really scary, she'd bury her face into my neck and whimper.  This is the same woman who crashed into the ocean with me full speed and dared the rocks to hurt us. She is my woman.
“I just don't understand it!  I make him run with me, I watch his calorie intake...” the woman's babbling on another woman behind a desk.  Coolly, she glances down and sees past her man and looks straight at me.  Me with my love handles.  My un-pedigreed good natured personality.  The little brown lines of her brows pinched together and her mouth turned down; disdain.  She kept right on talking though, simultaneously reaching down to give her man a pat.
This is when my woman steps in.  She gives me a hearty pat and ruffles between my ears, just like I like it, and smiles at me.  She doesn't say a word, but I see her glance at the other man and grin – incredulous.  Her smile seems all knowing then, and she reaches to my belly and grabs a little handful of roll.  She squeezes gently, like she does when she's scared, and I thump my tail on the ground.  Ah... She is my woman.

Description
“Oh my goodness, he's gained a whole pound!” the woman shrieked, staring incredulously at the scale.  I stared at the man, the man who'd gained a whole pound, and looked a little incredulous myself.  He could stand to gain ten more pounds! There was a foot of snow on the ground outside, which meant winter.  Which meant good holiday food.  Which meant a little extra around the waist line.
I stared down at my own pudgy belly, my little rolls pressing gently against my thighs.  My woman called them love handles, and said they were adorable.  When we watched scary movies at night she would wrap her arms around me and dig her fingers into my belly.  If they were really scary, she'd bury her face into my neck and whimper.  This is the same woman who crashed into the ocean with me full speed and dared the rocks to hurt us. She is my woman.
“I just don't understand it!  I make him run with me, I watch his calorie intake...” the woman's babbling on another woman behind a desk.  Coolly, she glances down and sees past her man and looks straight at me.  Me with my love handles.  My un-pedigreed good natured personality.  The little brown lines of her brows pinched together and her mouth turned down; disdain.  She kept right on talking though, simultaneously reaching down to give her man a pat.
This is when my woman steps in.  She gives me a hearty pat and ruffles between my ears, just like I like it, and smiles at me.  She doesn't say a word, but I see her glance at the other man and grin – incredulous.  Her smile seems all knowing then, and she reaches to my belly and grabs a little handful of roll.  She squeezes gently, like she does when she's scared, and I thump my tail on the ground.  Ah... She is my woman.