Monday, May 30, 2011

The most awesome thing ever: EATING!!! nomnomnom

Alright, people, this is the big one:

BREAKFAST + DINNER.

Okay, well, I guess it is big "ones". Also, don't even get me started on where the heck LUNCH is (I SEE you eating it foster mom! You CAN'T fool me!!!) but I just cannot tell you how much JOY it brings me to eat TWO whole meals EVERY day!! It is SO AWESOME. I mean, yeah, I lose it a little over water, I make horrible high pitch squeals every time we got for a walk, and next week, I'll probably go into great depth on how freaking much I love to pee on that tree in the backyard, but man. Let me tell you. Eating is so awesome and I just CANNOT get enough. Ever.

The first few days I was in my foster home, I had a really bad cold. The people call it kennel cough, I call it "the horrible thing in my face that makes my nose stop working and snot pour everywhere". I was a little weirded out because I was in a brand new place*, I couldn't smell anything and I wasn't feeling so hot. So, for three days my foster mom hand fed me cans of this real fancy dog food called Grammy's Pot Pie. It stank real good but I barely ate anything. Because she did that for me, though, I knew that she cared about me and everything was going to be okay. Also, I think at one point she thought I was going to die. {whoops.}

Then.
I got better. And I could smell again. And out came the kibble. So. Much. Kibble.

And now. OMG. Every day. TWO times a day, I eat this really amazing dog food made from all kinds of tasty stuff (and none of that corn crap. People. Honestly! Stop feeding your dogs food with corn in it. It's gross.) AND they also sometimes mix in really stinky fishy wet food and every morning I get a WHOLE EGG, and they also give me fish oil supplements** and olive oil for my skin, and every once in a while my foster mom cuts up organic baby carrots and I eat those too.

{You would think missing 3/4 of my front teeth would make it hard for me to eat dry food. You would be wrong.}

I asked my foster mom to take a picture of my food with all good stuff in it, but she says "it looks like something died, was eaten by a hawk, and the regurgitated back up again. And then someone put an egg on it."

omg.

It is SO TASTY.

{GIVEITTOME.}

Because I'm super special, I get to eat in my crate. That way, Rollie and Opus don't have to worry that I'm eating too fast and will come eat their food, because they eat SO SLOW. Also, even though I love food (and I mean I. Love. Food), I don't have what the people call "food aggression". I'm a lover, not a fighter, you know? Come to think of it, I think that may be why I was so skinny when I lived on the streets. That, and a mutt will get real sick of half eaten chicken bones after a while. People of Philadelphia: do a homeless dog a favor and stop throwing your half eaten chicken bones on the street. They're everywhere but man oh man did I get real sick of 'em real quick. Hook a brother up with a steak every once in a while, will ya?

Also, because I am made of awesome, I have even learned to wait and not eat right out of the tupperware while my foster mom is scooping our food into our bowls, even if she walks away and leaves the top off!

AND - get this!! - I don't eat just at breakfast and dinner!! Sometimes, we all sit all cutely and stuff in a row and we each get a treat. I have to wait patiently and get my treat last (I know!! The HUMANITY!!), but I'm learning. My foster mom also says the word "gentle" every time she gives me a treat, so I am also learning not to take it from her with such...enthusiasm.


And I can jump and catch treats, too!

GOT IT! ***

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*I'm pretty sure the last home I lived in sucked hard core, so I didn't know what to expect, but, again, I don't like to talk about it too much, so no one really knows. And since I'm a dog, I already forgot about it because this home ended up being so awesome.

**but those make me fart. Which I don't mind, but I think my foster mom does, because I don't get them as much as I did in the beginning when my skin was really dry.

***Please don't judge my foster mom's kitchen floor. She knows it is ugly. She's working on it.

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