Flash comes and sits in front of me, licking his lips. His eyes brighten. His whole body wiggles. He is intent on me like a guided missile.
Most of the time, I catch myself before actually saying the word aloud but when I’ve screwed up, I have to say, “No, sweetie, sorry.” The disappointment on that furry face is heart wrenching.
Another important word is: bone.
I used to give Flash dental bones before I put him on a diet of his kibble and only his kibble. But a friend sent him a Doggie Care Package and in it were the most wonderful bones in the world. I didn’t sample them, but I know this from Flash’s reaction. He tried to get the wrapper once they were in the garbage. He stuck his big long nose inside the box. He salivated.
I’ve realized there is one additional word that triggers a response: okay. In the morning when I put his food in his feeder, I make him get “down” and “stay”. I release him with “okay”, which prompts a race to his bowl. I’ve notice that whenever I say the word “okay” now, he perks up, goes to attention, and looks around for food.
I’m not at all surprised that these words have something to do with food in some fashion. He’s overweight but he acts as if he’s starving. He loves cauliflower, lettuce, and any veggie except spinach. I’m not going to tell you what else I’ve caught him eating, but it isn’t cookies or bones, okay?