Saturday was a rainy, dreary affair here in our corner of the world. Mr. Taleteller and Küster had a night training scheduled, so we spent the day staying inside where it was warm and dry. I had plans to go out to dinner with my sister since the boys were going to be busy. It meant that dinner and turn out for the dogs was going to be about an hour earlier than usual, but Flattery didn’t get that memo. She starts worrying about two hours ahead of time that dinner will be late, and she shares that concern with everyone. The things we do for food around here will surprise you, even if you know Flattery and her peccadilloes.
Generally speaking, I think that Flattery would prefer a meal every hour on the hour, and she’d start worrying at the half hour that it was going to be late. It’s just a part of her wiring that she always worries about where the next meal is coming from. The spectacle that we went through on Saturday tops the cake, though.
Normally, dog dinner is served around 4:30 at our house. Around 2:00, Flattery started thinking about dinner and how it would be a great idea right now. She came up to my husband, tail wagging and an alms for the poor look on her face. To punctuate her point when she feels that food should be served, she will try to poke you in the eye with her nose. I think this has a two fold purpose. One, to make sure that she has your attention and two, to make sure that you understand that her request is urgent. So, after her tail wag and hungry look, she poked him in the eye with her nose and backed up, sure that he would get up to serve her dinner right then and there.
To her dismay, that did not happen. Being wise to her ways, my husband very calmly told her that it wasn’t time for dinner and to go and lay down. Then, he uttered the words that seemed to set her off, and gave us about an hour’s worth of entertainment. “You’re going to eat dinner early today.”
I swear to you, her eyes lit up right then and there. She jumped up on the couch, spun around and came right back to him. Again, he told her to go lay down and relax. A little hound with dinner on the brain cannot just go lay down and relax when dinner could be served at any moment, though.
About five minutes later, she was back, looking hungrier and more hopeful than before. Once again, Mr. Taleteller told her to go lay down because it wasn’t time yet. Flattery gave him a dirty look and slunk back to the couch. Then, inspiration struck and she ran over by Morgan’s crate. Morgan immediately did her part, realizing where it all was headed. She started barking and carrying on. They were both sure they were about to become the first dogs in our town to starve to death that very day.
By that time, my husband was getting less amused and less tolerant. Morgan’s barking, once it starts, can shatter glass and human eardrums. She’s a barking machine and I fell pretty sure that anyone who ever thought about coming into our house uninvited would turn around and walk away as soon as they heard it. He told Morgan to lay down and he sent Flattery to the couch, where she laid down, glaring at him.
Another five minutes later, Mr. Taleteller was trying to watch something on his iPad. Flattery jumped off the couch and launched herself on his chair. It was actually a pretty athletic move. Her front paws hit the chair, rather close to some things that my husband would just as soon not have jumped on and then she bounced off, running to the kitchen, buzzing Morgan on her way and skidding to the back door. Clearly, we were in the true emergency stages at that point. When no one followed her to the kitchen, she came back to the living room and laid down on the couch with a sigh of disgust.
My husband waited for a quiet minute, and then he stood up and started the turn out routine. Flattery got her business done in record time and was in quite a hurry to get back inside. After Morgan and Küster had their turns outside, it was finally time to eat. How she survived to that point is a mystery for the ages. It makes me laugh still just thinking about the things she will do to try to get us to feed her. I have to admire her persistence, even if it gets aggravating. There aren’t many things that she won’t do for food, but she’s honest about it and I love her for it.