I like food. Of all my behavioral issues (that’s what dad calls them), this one might be the worst. All my bad comes bursting out in the moments of pure unbridled enthusiasm that happen twice every day as I am being fed. Feeding time at the zoo.
One of those times is really early in the morning. I bark. A lot. Incessantly. The neighbors love me. It sounds violent & mean, but I swear I am just so dang happy! (except when Lula hovers near the window, then our built-in Mohawks go up and our teeth get bared).
Mom & dad think it’s really funny and even join in with me.
(ED: Scarlet’s dad here: No we really don’t. At all. We are screaming at her to stop)
The idea that someone is going to BRING me food – in a bowl – twice a day is still amazing to me. After all, I spent my first 8 months eating whatever I could find, without a lot of instinct, so I just can’t contain myself. Mom & dad bought me a silly little thing that looks like a maze to put my food in to make me slow down. Ha. Good try, guys.
They tried freezing my food and making me eat chunks of frozen kibble. Whatever. Another good effort, guys.
I have to go outside to eat, regardless of the weather, away from my sisters, because Lula is also just a little bit crazy for food, and apparently there are fears that Armageddon would ensue if my crazy was too close to hers. It’s all her fault, really. Lula is the queen, so I get the kiddie table of dog dining.