Daily Dose of Cute

image of Dudley standing at his food dish, from behind, his impossibly long tail hanging between his ridiculous dinosaur legs

I tell Dudley all the time that we are going to survive for weeks off his drumsticks when the zombiepocalypse comes. He gives me a look in return which I believe is reasonably interpreted to mean: Not unless your fat ass magically acquires the ability to run 45mph, you won't.

Just kidding. He looks at me like this—

image of Dudley lying on his back looking totally goofy
—because he's Dudley.

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