Our 30-pound dog has an amazing ability to maximize the difficulty of picking him up.
If he is, say, comfortably ensconced in our bed, and we need to move him so there is room for us, he goes limp and increases his weight substantially. Sucks substance from the ether, perhaps? The process is not understood.
One sunny day my better half looked at the couch, and observed that the Amazing 300-Pound Dog also can be six feet long, when he wants to.
This couch is long enough for a 6'4" person's reasonably comfortable nap.
As you see, there wasn't room for anyone but Wilbur.
"What?"
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"If you are going to pay attention to me, at least you could be useful and rub my belly!"
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"Stupid monkeys............. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"
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