|OMG is that Gizmo?|
Seriously though, he doesn't eat much. He goes through weird phases where he won't eat. He doesn't ever eat when we're not home either. I can fill his bowl up in the morning before I leave for work and it will still be sitting there when I get home. Then, after having been home for an hour or so he might eat it. What he usually does is beg for you to stand in the kitchen next to him while he eats it. I'm not shitting you when I tell you this and I know I can't be taken seriously most of the time. I will walk in the kitchen with him and coax him to eat. After he starts eating I try and sneak out but he will always follow me out. Damn dog senses - they're worse than a control freak's who just realized that someone moved their flower vase 3 mm to the left and is now out for blood.
Ok. Maybe not that bad.
Speaking of blood. I had a hilarious conversation with a cousin today on email about me finally revealing that I'm a vampire (you know who you are) but not like that damn sparkling species. Also, I gave blood the other day at work and I won a $25 gift card to California Pizza Kitchen.
I've heard this not eating thing when you're not home is some anxiety thing that dogs can get. Awesome. Just more confirmation that I shouldn't have kids. If I'm totally screwing up my dog I can only imagine what I'll do to a midget version of myself. I don't understand how keeping his food & water dish full, letting him have full range to run the house all day, and letting him sleep on our bed every night can cause anxiety but what do I know. At least his anxiety isn't caused by an estranged biological father who was screwing every thing he could. (sorry I may or may not have had a personal conversation about my past today that left me thinking of things). For example, I'm writing this in bed as he lies next to me sleeping with his feet occasionally kicking me closer and closer to the edge of the bed. I'm literally teetering on the corner of my mattress and that spoiled bitch is snoring away dreaming of chasing birds. Anxiety my ass.