“Ruthie! Ruthie, move or I’ll have to put the bowl down on your head!”
Our pug will lie down near her feeding area as I dump the kibble in her dish. I’ll then set it on the floor and she’ll wait till I say “OK” at which point she’ll start to inhale it. Floor to finish in about 30 seconds. Twice a day. You’d think she never got any food!
Same here. For about an hour before breakfast and then again for lunch.
I haven’t done it in a while, but I had a complete doggie-dinner-time song for a few months.
Sung to a rousing chorus of Linda Ronstadt’s When will I be Loved?, it goes like this:
When will I be fed?
I’ve been greeted, I’ve been treated,
When will I be fed?
I’ve been petted, I’ve been vetted,
When will I be fed?
I like to eat the food with Daddy.
I like to eat with Mom.
I like to eat it by myself, all
Nom nom nom nom nom!
I’ve been cuddled, walked and puddled,
When will I be fed?
I like to eat the food with Mommy,
I like to eat with Dad.
I lie to eat it when it’s good, and
even when it’s bad!
I’ve been cuddled, walked and puddled,
When will I be fed?
That is fucking beautiful.
“Luc, don’t jump on my leg when I’m carrying your dinner bowl.” “Sit.”
“Shanni, please just one bite?” “Luc, no! This is Shanni’s dinner.”
Dachshunds, what ya gonna do?
It’s really ridiculous now that I think about it. I saw this topic last night and realized today what I was saying to my pets. This is from today:
“OH my goohnuss my poor shtarvin marvins gonna starve todeff nomnomnom are you happy now kittikins oh my goohnuss so nummy awww”. That’s how I talked to my cats.
To my poor pitiful dog dancing around waiting for his bowl to be fed: “Calm your tits shithead”. To be fair one of his dance moves is jumping on my legs and scratching them up. Plus the cats are cuter. There’s no denying this.
First thing in the morning my clown loach, Angel will start clicking away calling for her breakfast. I will say “Are you a hungry fishie?” or “Good morning fishies!” as I drop the flakes in. And occasionally “Watch out!” as I drop in the sinking pellets.
To the girl cat:
“It you don’t move I’m going to dump the food right on your head.
Do you have quivertail?
You can’t really be hungry if you don’t have quivertail”
To the boy cat:
“Are you hungry?
Are you a hungry hungry hippo?”
This all reminds me of this kitty, who never fails to crack me up.
“Ow! Stop clawing my leg! OK, I’ll feed you!”
“What do you want, Grizzly Adams?”
To my cat:
“You have a complaint for the management of this establishment?!” (Horrified look) “The customer is always right, how can I help?” (As I’m following her to where her food dish is, and she’s meowing away at me.) “Oh dear, the food bowl IS only HALF full, I see what you mean. Someone’s getting fired. Let me fix this for you.” (She meows appreciatively, eats one or two dainty nibbles, and then saunters off.)
To my pond fish:
“Morning, boys!” (They start crowding each other and gobbling up their koi pellets while I do a head count) “Role call! Where is Scooter? Scooter? Did he miss the bus?” (Scooter finally appears, and sticks his mouth above the surface so that I can drop dry pellets directly into it, crazy fish.) “Oh good, I was about to call your parents. Okay, everyone is present? School is now in session!”
“If you trip me it’s going to take longer to get your food!” Said just about every morning as the cat hurls himself at my feet while I’m half-awake stumbling to the kitchen.
Time for puppy suppy? Puppy suppy! joyful dancing
Poor kitties! Poor hungry kitties have never been fed in their lives! Look at the poor hungry kitties, daddy! Ow! Stop biting my knees!
Are you * joyful dancing*? Or is puppy?
I have parrots. Whoever said “eats like a bird” implying “not much” never owned a bird. Fuel efficient these guys are not. They’re largely sedentary, domestic pet birds and still eat half their body weight or more a day. (Granted, they don’t weigh much.)
Griffin the Conure is especially frantic. The two cockatiels are almost dainty in their nibbling but Griffin just tears into whatever.
So… (to the cockatiels) “Boys, boys, here’s your food. Sidney, Sunny, come and get it. There you go. Good birds.”
For Griffin… “Back, get off the food bowl. If you don’t get off the empty food bowl I can’t fill it. Please, I know you’ve been fed at least once this week.”* :::: desperate parrot sounds :::* “Actually, about six hours ago, you poor starving bird. Back, back, let me put the food bowl on the cage. There you go.” ::: Sounds of devouring and crunching :::
That’s for the bird food. They will also attempt to abscond with people food. The cockatiels will quietly and politely approach, indicating their interest in whatever you’re eating, and are willing to nibble politely at the edges of your sandwich. Griffin, on the other hand, will land on top of your plate, toss anything he’s not interested in off onto the floor, then march off with your sandwich innards. If you attempt to retrieve it he will defend “his” meal with all the fierceness of a starving lion guarding a gazelle.
“ok, starvin marvin. I’ll get your food. But you need to get out of my way”
Yes. 
Noir Kitty feels he should be fed the moment I come down the stairs in the morning. Unfortunately, there are more pressing matters I need to attend to in the little room next to the stairs, so he tells me all about his woes, which can be heard through the door, over the sound of the noisy bathroom fan.
I tell him how terrible it is that he’s been starving for forever, but first things need to be first. When I get out, I tell him he’s a good kitty kitty, he is, and give him his Mushy Food. He eats about half and comes out to where I am and tells me it’s time for Treats. (Don’t tell Noir Kitty but they’re just kibbles.)
We have this thing where I sit in my rocking chair and toss a small handful, one by one, into the dining room or the front room and he runs after them, showing off how fast he can spin around and get to the other room. I’ve never seen a cat who loves to run and play fetch like Noir Kitty. He used to be a very depressed cat so it makes me glad to see him act like this. And, yes, I probably overindulge him.
Sometimes a treat will go astray and he can’t find it right away. I try to point it out to him but usually end up telling him it’s okay, he can get it later. Then I’ll toss another. When Treats are done, I hold my hands out and tell him, “They’re all gone. No more.” Then I go back to what I was doing and he wanders back into the kitchen to finish his Mushy Food.
He’s been known to ask for Second Breakfast. I think he’s a Tolkien fan and probably has the Lord of the Rings books stashed somewhere. Nowadays, I tell him to hold off for dinner, which is a more sedate affair, but he still gets afternoon and evening Treats when he asks.