White Dog looked at me. "You don't understand how a full day of napping leaves one REALLY calorie deficient," she said by way of an explanation. It was a gloomy, rainy day...damp and inhospitable. The Army didn't bother to mope or get restless; instead, they all became torpid fur rugs.
That was BEFORE Steve got home. His arrival awakened not just the pups but insatiable appetites. Despite distractionary jerky treats as Steve unpacked groceries, Zsofia was still herded from the kitchen for pulling the empty grocery bags from the counter and licking the insides...head fully inside the empty bags. "Stop! Don't you know you could suffocate yourself," I told her.
As I was "saving" my Itty Bitty Baby from all the things those labels on plastic warn about, Trixie reached across my arm and snagged one of the slices of bread for tomorrow's lunches. I grabbed the squirt bottle and nearly emptied it in a wasted effort to get her to "Drop It!"
THEN the White Dog Army had dinner...the Event lasted a total of about sixteen seconds (for even deliberate Nilla)...a new record for the White Dog Army. The proverbial "fat lady singing" was replaced with a raucous belch by Pearl.
Steve turned in the kitchen to focus on OUR dinner. "Yo! WHAT are you DOING?" YoYoMa dines in the pantry where he can push his bowl around without angering siblings eating nearby. Except he had long ago finished. Well, finished what he had been given in his bowl anyway. Steve discovered our boy had inventively created a broth fountain and was busily slurping away the little stream flowing from the box of vegetable broth he had chewed open and was using his paw to make the liquid squirt out. "OUT! NOW! All of you!" Steve commanded...
...which sent them to sit in formation in front of me waiting for my dinner to be served.