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I look like a puckered pile of flab and wrinkles with whiskers. When my husband calls me "pet," it's because my drooping jowls make me look like Cousin Delmont's old coon dog Otis, and my flabby neck jiggles like a Tom turkey's. My cheeks sag lower each day, like melting blobs of raspberry ripple ice cream. I'm afraid I'll awake some