treat machine

BabyGirl is a beggar. Whenever there’s food, she’s there with those big, brown eyes, giving me that look, the one she hopes earns her a piece of … something, anything. I guess I can’t blame her …. aren’t all dogs beggars? Some historians theorize it was young wolf cubs begging around early man’s campfires that led to the creation of man’s best friend. Still, you’d think a healthy meal a day, plus treats, would be enough for my best friend. Not so. She wants a piece of everything, even though I rarely give her anything. Anything that is, except her food and the occasional bit of people food.

Did I mention the cookie she gets each and every time we come in the house after she’s done her business? Or something good? Some days, I feel like a treat machine, or a dorm cafeteria worker, which has to explain the phrase I came up with to give myself a respite from my dog’s begging. I say it as I’m fixing a glass of water before going to bed. Naturally, she joins me with that hungry face that says, pretty please? That’s when I look directly into those big, brown eyes and utter the one thing that puts an end to the begging …. “Food services is closed for the night.” At which point BabyGirl huffs, exits the kitchen and jumps on her corner of the bed.

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. Urspo says:

    Doggie eyes! These are their most powerful and barbarous weapon.

    Like

  2. Ron says:

    Roger,
    We used to call our three Pons “The Little Beggars”. Not a terribly original name but so true.
    Ron

    Like

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