... is one of my new nicknames for our cat Buddy, the one who ran away. One of my kids calls him Tubby Lardo.
We're both right, and relatedly. Buddy's piteous squeaking for food, along with his sly tactic of begging from one adult after the other has fed him and left the room, paid off enough to earn him the second nickname.
But now he's been busted, or rather we have. The vet says he must lose 1/3 of his 15 pound body weight, like it or not, or else risk diabetes, arthritis, etc. At least he doesn't get mocked by the other cats in the feline equivalent of the schoolyard. (Although I don't know exactly what that big black cat was saying to him the time he ran away.)
Sorry, Buddy. It's high-fiber crunchies for you from now on. But keep on playing frisk-about with the other guys; it's kitty aerobics.