Rein it in a tad, brother

Day 4. Still no humans, and Fabio has been hitting the kibble stockpiles a little too aggressively. I'm sure he sees these mountains of pellets as a glutton's grand bonanza, but for crying out loud, his belly's stretched like the skin on a kettle drum.

I don't think he quite gets the concept of rationing. After all, there's no telling when (or verily, if) the dispensers of sustenance might return to resume their appointed duties. We might do well to leave some of this magnificent feast in reserve, yes?

Otherwise, it may become necessary to force my way into the kibble vault (a difficult proposition for those of us who remain fingerless).

There's always the option of foraging out-of-doors — assuming, of course, that my engorged sibling doesn't plug up the hatch with his bulbousness.