Monday, August 10, 2015


I ask this question in all seriousness, because I believe our doxie Duke knows when it is time for each meal!  Of course, when we get up in the morning, he wants us to eat immediately, in hopes that we'll drop or share a morsel of our food.  He loves eggs, bacon, oatmeal, pancakes (without syrup, of course), grits, hash browns, cereal with milk--that's why I call him a chow hound extraordinaire.

However, he also knows when it is time for lunch and for dinner.  He first tries to get our attention via stares.  He'll sit on the floor in front of one of us, wherever we may be, and just stare.  If we are too dense to pick up on that, he'll up his game--his next step is to jump up into one of our laps, get as close to our face as possible, and do his annoyed bark, something between a yip and a growl (you doxie owners know what I'm talking about).  If that still doesn't work, he'll flat out bark, in a tone that leaves nothing to be misunderstood.  We call it his "yelling-at-us" bark.

Yesterday, however, he outdid even himself.  We had gone out for a late lunch, so we weren't ready to eat dinner at our usual time, around 6:00 p.m.  Of course he started his routine about 5:30.  But last night, he REALLY meant business!  Clark was sitting on the couch watching the news, and after Duke's previous two steps didn't work, he got right up in Clark's face, barked, then looked toward the kitchen and back at Clark--twice.  It is important to note that our kitchen is right behind the living room couch.  It is separated by a wall, but there is a cutout, or window, that looks straight into the kitchen.  So, there was absolutely no doubt about what Duke was telling Clark:  "I'm hungry!  Get in there and get something good so I can lick out your plate!"

Although I usually cook, if we have leftovers, Clark often heats them up in the microwave.  Last
night we were having leftovers:  pork chops, buttered rice, black-eyed peas, and baked sweet potatoes.  That's why he was pestering Clark instead of me!  How Duke knew that we had leftovers residing in the fridge is beyond me, but he DID see Clark put them there after dinner the night before.

Dachshunds . . . you gotta love 'em!

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