I'm not one-hundred percent sure exactly what he is. He looks and smells a little bit like my rat, Poppy, but there's something different about him. Dad forgot to ask Nice Redhead what his name is, so Mom said we'll call him Fatty McFatty.
He is certainly fat. And I don't know if it's quite polite for me to be saying such things about a guest, but he'd make such a nice little furry throwing ball...or a squeaky toy...or a snack. I just can't help it--centuries of terrier instinct are telling me he needs a shake between my teeth.
No worries though, Fatty is safely out of my reach.