We store our dog food in the garage. The dogs don't really have a set meal time. They eat in the morning and in the evening, whenever we get around to feeding them.
As soon as I make a move to pick up their food bowls, Akela shadows my footsteps, knowing I'll soon be holding food that should, by right, be hers. (Of course, in her opinion, any and all food should, by right, be hers.) Blitzkrieg, on the other hand, goes directly to the spot I always bring the food back to and sits and waits for his meal to be brought to him.
Akela isn't allowed in the garage with me, so she waits just outside the garage door, hoping to ambush me as soon as I come in and take the food. Blitzkrieg remains sitting in the kitchen.
When I bring the food back, I head to where Blitzkrieg is waiting, then tell Akela to sit. She does immediately because I'm holding food. As long as I'm holding food, I could tell her to jump into the Grand Canyon and she'd do it if she thought it meant I would give her my food. Then I set down both food bowls and tell the dogs, "Look here." They have to look at me, not the food, and aren't allowed to eat until I tell them, "Okay."
Training Akela to wait was more difficult than training Blitzkrieg, because Blitzkrieg won't touch his food until it's put directly in front of him. I usually set the bowls about three feet away from the dogs. Even when I say okay, Blitzkrieg will usually just sit and stare at the bowl, probably distraught because it's not within his reach, so he can't figure out how to eat it. He doesn't budge until I push his bowl directly in front of him, at which point you can almost see him looking relieved that using his mind powers to move the bowl closer worked, since there was no alternative.
Sometimes, like today, if I remember that the dogs need food when I'm in the middle of something, I just set the bowls down in front of the dogs and go back to what I was doing. When I do that, Blitzkrieg will start wolfing the food down immediately, but Akela sniffs the bowl and then turns and looks at me with an expression of utter confusion on her face. It's like she's saying, 'I'm looking at you. See? Can I eat now? Am I allowed? What did I do wrong? Why are you walking away from me?' She won't touch her food until I come back and tell her to sit and look at me. Because I feel bad for neglecting to make her earn her food, I sometimes make her do one or two more tricks as well, by which time she starts edging toward the food, like, "Okay, I'm done with this game. Food time."
By that time, Blitzy's almost done snarfing down his food, and when he's finished, he usually circles Akela until she finishes, hoping that she'll leave him a few bites. I guess the food we give him isn't worth getting up for, but the food we give Akela is, even though it's the same food.
When Akela finishes, Blitzkrieg rushes in and licks the bottom of her bowl a few times, just in case there are any invisible pieces hiding from him. Then he'll waddle over to his favorite patch of sunlight (or the air vent if the heat is on, or the bed), plop down, and go to sleep.
Lazy dog.
2 comments:
Bravo! Makes me even more glad that you have two puppies.
You should write articles for a newspaper.
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