Sad Eyes

Oh boy, oh boy! She's feeding us good stuff for supper tonight! Ground raw turkey! Much better than the mostly broth stuff she's been giving us for supper lately.

Why does she take so long to put those supplements in? Heck, why does she bother at all?

You know. She says they're "good for us."

I wish she'd hurry. My ears are getting tired of being at full alert. My eyes, too. I'm an old dog and I don't have time to waste waiting when I could be eating!

They have a point. It does take a while to decapsulate or break up supplements, but only one will eat any of the supplements in capsule or pill form and both consider having the supplements poked down their throats somewhat insulting.

Those bright eyes, watching every move of my hand from bottle to bowl, then grasping the fork to mix the powders in, moving the bowls to add some hot water so the food will be warmer for old dog bellies. How alert, watchful, anticipating joy in the food.

So much waiting for just a few moments of eating. Then the crestfallen looks all around the bowl. Did I really eat it all already? Surely I knocked a morsel or two under the edge of the bowl? Hmm. Let's swap bowls. Maybe you left something in yours, for I surely did not in mine.

After a final potty break outside, we come in to one last bit of food as a reward for a good emptying of bladders. Dogs race for the back door in more joyous anticipation. Once again, the ears are up, eyes alert and missing no gesture toward a possible food source. Cookies distributed, they head for bed.