Libby is the dog I could set my watch by. And by "watch" I mean the clock on my cell phone. She always knows when it's 6:00 pm. That's when she demands dinner. She finds me wherever I am in the house and begins to howl, growl, bark, jump, dance, just be really obnoxious, until I feed her. I affectionately refer to this as "Peanut Butter Jelly Time". Since I am with-child, I have trained her not to tackle me while trying to scoop the food from their big canister in the pantry. It really ticks me off when I'm standing there, scoop of food in hand, and she pounces on me; sending kibble flying. And she never wants to clean up after herself. Typical. After I serve dinner, she takes a warning lap around the kitchen growling at the other dogs, just to let them know that she is the protector of the food and that if they so much as try to eyeball her bowl, they're dead meat. She's a badass. Then she inhales her dinner and sits in the living room watching the others, hoping they get full or distracted so she can clean their plates.
Laney takes about an hour to eat a cup of dog food. Steve estimates that she eats it one kibble at a time, pausing in between bites to wag her tail, bat her eyelashes and be a beautiful lady. And like a true lady, she does not like to be photographed while eating. Sometimes she pretends she's not hungry, so that I cheer her on to eat. "Who's my pretty girl? My little girl needs to eat her supper! Yes she does!" Yes, I say these things to her. I think she has an eating disorder. She's an attention-seeker at the very least. I don't know what else to do.
George gets distracted midway through his meal and goes to the girls' bowls (they are all positioned throughout the kitchen) to see what they're having for dinner. Maybe it's something super yummy and exciting? No. George is turning four this month, and every day of his life he has been served the same food as his sisters. But every day he has to go check out their bowls, just to see what they're having, even though he still has plenty of his own food. I become a referee in my own kitchen and the food police.
Why can't they be as adorable as this little puppy eating his food?
Ok, maybe my dogs looked cute too when they were puppies...
(note: my kitchen is no longer this color)
The past few days, Libby doesn't even bother to finish her food. She mopes around Steve and me and jockeys for attention while the others are eating. It's so not like her to pass up a meal. Yesterday, I was in my closet hanging up clothes and walked out into the bedroom to find her lying on the bed half-heartedly. One long leg was dangling off the side like she couldn't be bothered to climb all the way onto the bed and her big chocolate Milk Dud eyes were just staring off into space. Hugs and kisses from me weren't even met with a tail thump. What is wrong with my spunkiest pup? Turns out, a little alfresco dining was just what the doctor ordered. I walked her outside onto the patio with her food bowl and sat with her (not on the patio furniture, on the actual patio so she could be near me) and I read a couple chapters of Chelsea Handler's new book.
All three of my dogs love it when I sit outside with them. They prefer the outdoors, but they're very attached to me, so when I am home they choose to stay indoors with me. Before the hot Texas sun drives me indoors for the duration of summer I need to take the time to enjoy the fresh air with my pups.