Whose Dinner Is it Anyway?

When we were discussing whether to get another dog, I said I couldn't imagine our life without a dog, but that there would be some changes made. The dog wouldn't sleep in our bedroom, and it wouldn't eat our food. I have completely lost the first resolve. It worked beautifully as long as we lived in Berkeley. Ozzie slept in his kennel downstairs in OilMan's office, and we slept upstairs in our bedroom. When we moved here Ozzie was undone by the fact that he was expected to sleep by himself in the room right next door to ours. We were so exhausted by the move that we let him sleep in our room. I'm not sure how he wound up sleeping on our bed, but it certainly wasn't because I thought it was a good idea....

As for not feeding Ozzie our food, I've had better luck on that front. The only time he ever begs or eats our food is when we forget about the cheese on the coffee table when we repair to the table for dinner with guests. Rarely is there a speck of cheese left, even though the dining table is no more than six feet from the coffee table. Our backs are turned, and that is the key...

Blake and Rudy have spent the weekend here, and they have a different regimen at their house. They will eat vegetable scraps, carrots, asparagus stems, even lettuce. They were keeping a close eye on OilMan as he prepared the basting sauce for some baby back ribs he's planning to barbecue. OilMan is still convinced that it is easier to barbecue anything  than to cook it on the stove...even though it is pouring rain at the moment. Ozzie was happy enough with the arrangement as he was able to reclaim his bed...for awhile...*

* Extra.  Rudy is merciless with Blake when trying to get Blake to play with him, but he seems to respect the rules laid down by the senior citizen. Compromises can be made.