Feeding the Dog...
I just sat in my living room and watched Mom eat her lunch. Dad fixed her a decent lunch, which she ate. He doesn't eat lunch. Well, at least that's what he says. It turns out that what he does is pick...a bit of this, a bit of that, a piece of fruit, a cookie or 3.
We have a rule in our house about Santana, our shepherd. When someone is eating, whether it be in the kitchen, or in the living room, we say, "EATING" loudly, and make eye contact with Santana. He, like most dogs I've ever known, likes to watch others eat, very closely. This way, if even the tiniest crumb may fall, he can get it before it hits the floor.
We've sort of trained Santana that "EATING" means to move away from the eater. He will inch backwards while you keep saying "EATING" until you stop saying it. Then he stops and lays down. The stare at the eater is refocused, of course.
So Dad brought some cookies in the living room for his snack and gave a few to Mom. I didn't see that Santana was sitting to the left of Mom, on the other side of the couch. I just saw the 'rents eating cookies.
All of a sudden, Dad says, "Tell her, would you just tell her?" Not knowing what was going on, I made the mistake of saying, "What?"
"She keeps giving the dog her cookies!! I keep telling her not to, but she's doing it anyway!"
I look over at Mom, who had a half a cookie in her hand, and a guilty look on her face. She was reaching over the couch arm to give Santana the other half of the cookie.
"Mom, don't feed him. EATING, EATING..."
"I wasn't doing anything."
The dog moved back into my view, with a guilty look on his face.
"Ma, you were feeding him. Stop feeding him those cookies, or I'm going to start calling you Nonny."
Nonny was her mother. She lived with us for 18 or so years. She used to feed our golden retriever, Greta, all the time, from the table. A piece of pastry for Nonny, a piece for Greta. Greta got very heavy, and Mom always yelled at her mother for feeding Greta all that stuff.
It's the circle of life.
We have a rule in our house about Santana, our shepherd. When someone is eating, whether it be in the kitchen, or in the living room, we say, "EATING" loudly, and make eye contact with Santana. He, like most dogs I've ever known, likes to watch others eat, very closely. This way, if even the tiniest crumb may fall, he can get it before it hits the floor.
We've sort of trained Santana that "EATING" means to move away from the eater. He will inch backwards while you keep saying "EATING" until you stop saying it. Then he stops and lays down. The stare at the eater is refocused, of course.
So Dad brought some cookies in the living room for his snack and gave a few to Mom. I didn't see that Santana was sitting to the left of Mom, on the other side of the couch. I just saw the 'rents eating cookies.
All of a sudden, Dad says, "Tell her, would you just tell her?" Not knowing what was going on, I made the mistake of saying, "What?"
"She keeps giving the dog her cookies!! I keep telling her not to, but she's doing it anyway!"
I look over at Mom, who had a half a cookie in her hand, and a guilty look on her face. She was reaching over the couch arm to give Santana the other half of the cookie.
"Mom, don't feed him. EATING, EATING..."
"I wasn't doing anything."
The dog moved back into my view, with a guilty look on his face.
"Ma, you were feeding him. Stop feeding him those cookies, or I'm going to start calling you Nonny."
Nonny was her mother. She lived with us for 18 or so years. She used to feed our golden retriever, Greta, all the time, from the table. A piece of pastry for Nonny, a piece for Greta. Greta got very heavy, and Mom always yelled at her mother for feeding Greta all that stuff.
It's the circle of life.
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