When I finally rolled out of bed (after tiring of hearing the Lamentations of the Food Bowls), Jake was sitting by his food dishes, rubbing the cabinet.
There was food, but it was probably too aged for his taste.
The old food was removed, fresh food was produced and served. All is now right with the world.
An Explosion Of Entitlement
4 hours ago
3 comments:
My mother was trained by her furkid to serve a different flavor of wet food each mealtime, or it would be snubbed. When mom passed away, I inherited said fussy eater. After wasting a few cans, I was properly chastised, and have followed protocol since. As the saying goes, "Dogs have Owners, Cats have Staff".
Mine currently eat whatever kibble I put down or they don't eat. They got the message that whatever lamentations they use to try to scam me into something else, what they got is what they got, and it disappears out of the food bowl fairly swiftly after my back is turned (they dislike eating it in front of me because that would imply that they like it). But they are not toothless gentlemen of a certain age either. When you've lived as long as Jake, easily gummed food is a requirement for fine dining. And it appears that his dining is fine indeed :).
They may look fancy, but those are just glass sundae dishes from Wally-world.
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