My beagle mix, as she watches my husband and I eat Mostacocoli.
Marge: OH! Are you eating in here? You’re eating? Eating! I’ll eat! I can eat. Can I eat? I’ll just sit here. Actually I should sit closer. I should sit here. Actually, I’ll just sit on your foot, with my nose on your leg.
Me: You hungry, li’l miss? Here’s your supper… ::pouring out dry dog food, Marge looks at it with distaste::
Marge: No…no not dog food. I want to eat that…what’s that? What you have? Can I have that? How about that? Ok, how about that bite…canihavethatbiterightthere…oh. Ok. OK, I understand. howaboutthat? HowaboutthatbiteyouhavenowcanIhaveit? Oh.
You know, I’m starving. Don’t you see I’m starving? Don’t you love me? I’m right here, and I love you and I’m starving and I wish you loved me…canIhavethat? I’m going to die. I’m going to die right here. In fact, let me spread out on the floor so you can see my distended stomach. NO that’s not fat! Look into my eyes…whataboutthatbite? Oh. How about that? Wait. Can I have that? Wait, you shouldn’t eat that! Give it to me. I’m starving. PLEASE! PLEASE give me that! Look at my tail. Look at me…what?
HAW! Damn, jarbaby, you have captured the essence of canine dinnertime thought. I especially love the part when they’re watching the bite disappear and are really trying to act fast to see if they can cut in on the action.
It’s somewhat less humorous when your beagle shoves the bathroom door open while you’re sittin’ on the throne…waddles over to your feet, and paws at your leg to demand her afternoon pig ear.
Discretion is not in Clancy’s vocabulary…damn mutt.
Our younger dog will stand in front of my husband while he eats his dinner and lick the air, as if he’s trying to consume the scent of the food. Because you know that’s all he’s going to get (yeah, right).
My vet told me not to feed any of my animals table scraps…
So all of them go and sit by Mr. Boscibo at dinnertime, they know a sucker when they see one. Surprisingly, the worst beggar isn’t one of our three dogs, it’s my elderly cat, Bo. Bandit the dog is pretty bad, too. When he was an only dog (before I met the Mr. and his two dogs) he was spoiled rotten and I’d let him lick my plate clean before I put it in the dishwasher. Bandit acts like your dog Marge, if we’re eating his eyes will never leave us, he wants to be there fast in case anything gets dropped.
This reminds me of an episode of Dexter’s Laboratory (yes, I watch it with the kids) where Dexter brings home a stray dog and then somehow he makes it to where he can understand what the dog is saying. The rest of the episode goes very much like Jarbaby wrote, with the dog talking very hyper and very fast about playing and eating and going for walks, etc., and so on.
Feh!
One of my cats, Dmytri, will actually walk the edge of my bathtub while I’m in the shower, peeking his head around and meowing on occasion, and as soon as I step out, <zoom>, he’s darted around the corner and is licking the water off of the walls. What, the fresh water in your bowl isn’t good enough?!
This is the same cat that trips me anytime I’m in the kitchen and sticks his head in the fridge every time that is open. Man, I’ll tell you, you feed a cat deli-meats once, just once…
Ha! My cat, Teddy, has convinced himself that every can in the world contains tuna. Regardless of me showing him the black beans, tomatoes, corn, etc. he is convinced that somewhere underneath all that veggie stuff lies tuna. Thus, whenever a can is opened in the Athena household, Teddy is there at my feet, crying pitifully, certain that I am withholding tuna from him.
The cutest springer spaniel in the world, Miss Phyllis, loves to drink bathwater. Especially when you use fruity bubble bath, like strawberry or pear.
Her predecessor, Miss Emily, used to actually suck in her cheeks when she was begging. “Look, I’m starving! Look at my sunken cheekbones!” She was a great actress.
Once when Miss Emily was but a youngster, I brought home a Subway sub that was cut into 4 pieces. I took one piece and went to tell Mr. S that lunch was ready. When we returned to the kitchen table, only 2 pieces remained. Inspection of the piece of carpet where Emily liked to take treats revealed several stray pieces of lettuce. The funny thing was that she had taken only one piece – I guess she thought that was only her fair share! But she gave us that same hungry stare while we ate the rest of the sub – “Gee, that sure looks like it tastes good! I wish I knew how that tasted! Can’t I have some?”
And the Oscar for the Best Performance as a starving dog
goes to…MARGE!!!
Marge: What is that? Is it food? Do I get fries with that?
Wait don’t take it away? whatisitwhatisitswhatisit?
Hmm…sniff.sniff…not food…must sleep now.