Don't Even Think About It

The greyhounds at our house are all very mellow and easy going. We rarely have any problems with them or between them. However, there is one little issue that we do have to watch. I'm going to be one of those bad people who exposes her dog's dirty little secret here now. Three of our hounds are very laid back about food, and then there's Blueberry.

Blueberry is a food hound.

When the dogs come back in after turn out, they all go to their food bowls and start to eat. All of them except Madame Blueberry. She marches straight to the living room where she rubs herself up and down the length of the couch before going over and flopping down on a dog bed where she can see the kitchen. If another dog even looks at her bowl, there is one loud woof and then she rushes into the kitchen and checks to make sure that her food is still there. Then she will come back to the living room and lay down. About forty five minutes after everyone else has eaten, she will go in the kitchen. She makes the rounds, inspecting to see if everyone else ate their food. If anybody has any leftovers, she eats that first. Then she ambles over to her bowl. She'll take a mouthful of food and carry it in to her favorite dog bed in the living room.

Inevitably, at this point, Hawk decides that he needs a drink and so he gets up and moseys to the water bowl, which, of course, takes him past Blue's dog food hidden in her bed. This elicits another woof from her which I have to confess I am surprised hasn't killed poor Hawk of a heart attack yet. Sometimes it even scares me a little. I or my husband yell at her and she hunkers down with her food, eating it as fast as she can so she can rush into the kitchen and get another mouth full. Hawk staggers back to bed and lays down and all is right in the world again.

We have noticed a trend lately with the food. After the dogs were so sick from the canned food incident, we were cooking some meatballs for them to encourage them to eat again. All of the dogs think that we should keep cooking the meatballs and now anytime either of us is in the kitchen, we are stalked in hopes of getting meatballs. Blueberry has decided that she shouldn't have to eat if we don't cook something for her, and that anything we cook should be for her. She's always been very motivated by food. However, now she prefers to keep her plain kibble in her bowl while she pines away for whatever we are eating. If nothing better materializes, then she will go back to eat her food eventually. Trust me on this, she isn't starving!

Today, we reached a new level, however. As the weather has turned to fall, we've been cooking inside, as opposed to the summer when almost everything is cooked outside on the grill. Today I decided to cook some Salsa Chicken Soup to warm us up and stick to our ribs. I went to the kitchen to start cooking a short while after the hounds were finished eating. Well, all of them except Blueberry. When I entered the kitchen, she came barreling in there. I turned and looked at her. She glared back at me.

Me: Blueberry, I am not going to steal your food! I need to fix supper.

Blueberry: You're alone in the kitchen with my food. You are highly suspect.

Me: Trust me, I have better things to eat than your kibble! We haven't gotten that hard up yet!

Blueberry: Well, if you've got something better, why aren't you sharing that?!

Me: Because it's for people! You have a bowl of perfectly good food there that you haven't even touched. I don't think you even sniffed it until just now when I came in here.

Blueberry: I wanted to be sure you didn't try to take any. I'd have smelled your stink on it if you had! And I'll eat it when I'm good and ready.

Me: Yes, I am aware.

Blueberry: Was that chicken broth you just poured in that pot?

Me: As a matter of fact it was. It's part of the soup we're having.

Blueberry: I think you meant to pour a little of that in my bowl...

Me: No, I need it all for the soup!

Blueberry: And I thought you loved me! I'm going in to lay on the couch with Dad! He really loves me! He'd have given me some, I just know it!

After I finished the soup, sure enough, there was Blueberry sleeping on the couch, her head on my husband's leg. They were nice enough to save me a cushion at the other end of the couch to sit on. Husband and I both sat down with a large bowl of soup and Blueberry circled her wagon around to the front of where my husband sat. She did her prettiest sit. She batted her outrageous eyelashes at him. Her slender head wobbled in excitement. To her great shock and surprise, he ate all his soup and didn't give her any. After a disgusted sigh, she marched back to the kitchen and ate her food. Sometimes greyhound retirement isn't all it's cracked up to be.