How far will you go?






















I'm used to the routine; the acting, the big parade that sometimes is necessary to get Luke to eat. He is one of the most simple yet complex dogs I've ever met; quite the guy. Yesterday he was in his "not in the mood to eat" zone. I recognize this from the first sign; lack of presence. Luke isn't one to hang around the kitchen unless there is raw beef, liver or roast but when I'm making their food and he is a no show; I know.

The morning feed wasn't too difficult to convince him to half eat but dinner, geesh. The fact that I was making shortbread and he wasn't in the kitchen was a sign. But when I called him to eat and he did not respond immediately; that was the big sign. Again? I thought to myself. Telling the girls they had to wait until I got Luke; I was off to find him. Another sign hit my nose when I neared the familyroom.

There was only Luke down in the familyroom and he obviously was having some gas issues, yikes. I called him to eat and he charged up the stairs only to slip and twist his leg. Now we had to go into the "let me see, I'll fix it" routine. With his ears plastered back and his eyes seeking sympathy I rubbed his leg to repair the hurt. "There you're all better," and he does a happy circle, bow and gives me a kiss. I'm good aren't I?

So into the kitchen and he's not interested; every speck of his body language says he does not want dinner. So I get out more liver, chop it tiny and add water to make a liver soup type substance. Pouring it onto the top I start the mmmmmmmmm, this looks yummy routine. His interest is small but visable at least. Jessie is just about exploding at this point and is near done her food before I walk away from her bowl.

After putting his bowl down I turn away so he cannot seek any further routine from me. If he is not interested in the liver conconction then; that's as far as I am willing to go this evening. I can see him in the reflection of the window; staring at his bowl, looking at me, then the girls. Finally after several minutes he realizes that I'm not doing anymore and he approaches his bowl. One bite; that's all that is needed to get things rolling.

He takes a bite; the one bite that always means he is at least going to eat something tonight. He ate 7/8ths of his food; pretty good for Mr. Fussy pants.

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