Deep Thoughts With Joey

Joey Finds Solace in the Bathtub

Me and Rowdy wait all day for Dad to come home.  Boy, is that an exciting time.  We've been busy all day barking at intruders at the back door, telling it like it is to the squirrel eating at the feeder outside the window, and of course keeping tabs on anyone who might possibly think of ringing our buzzer.  We play for awhile, we sun for awhile, we chew on that leftover treat he left us for awhile, then the time comes....he's home.....he pulled into the driveway, that was the beep of the car alarm...He's HOME!  That means FOOD!  That means a WALK!  He greets us with an equal air of enthusiasm - this is the best time of the day!
He grabs some treats and a poop bag and a leash for my little brother Rowdy.   I'm such a good boy that I don't need no stinkin' leash - really.  We go for a 25 minute walk to greet everyone in the neighborhood coming home from work and to brighten their otherwise mundane day.
Finally back at the house, I know that soon it will be dinnertime.  I've waited 12 hours since the last "feeding."  But instead of pulling our frozen raw meat out of the freezer, he stops to fill a glass with ice for his tea.  Then he invites us to step outside on the porch so he can survey our estate.  I don't want to go on the porch with him, this is just a delay tactic to get my dinner.  With much reluctance, I finally agree to go with him and Rowdy after his incessant prodding. 
Back inside once more, he finally steps toward the freezer and pulls out the frozen meat.  Oh, yes.  What will it be tonight?  Lamb, chicken, beef, fish, venison, goat, tripe?  I don't care what it is, just make it quick.
He pulls a frozen patty from the bag - looks like duck!  What a nice surprise.  I wag my tail enthusiastically.  He sets the frozen patty on a plate and prepares to thaw it in the microwave.  Alas - this waiting is killing me.  Kibble would be so much more efficient and quicker. 
The new microwave takes six minutes and twenty seven seconds on the defrost setting to thaw our food.   The old microwave took only two minutes and thirty nine seconds.  That's progress for you.
I'm getting impatient.  I've stopped wagging my tail because this is taking so long.  I stare at him coldly with disgust.  I look at Rowdy and roll my eyes.  The microwave finally beeps.  YES!  But I'm tired of waiting.
He pulls the thawed meat patty out of the microwave and asks us if we're hungry with a big smile on his face.  You think?  I can't stand his patronizing. 
I'm so excited at this point knowing that dinner is just a few moments away I think I'll just explode.  For reasons known only to me, I go into what he refers to as "the zone."  I'm so excited that I can't even watch him take the meat patty and split it up for me and Rowdy.  I leave the kitchen and walk to the end of the hallway and I just stand there, frozen, in the greatest anticipation.  A little drool escapes my jowls.  I can't even wag my tail I'm so serious in the fact that dinner is almost ready.  My head is going to pop off my long agile body.  Will I get more tonight than I did last night?  Will I get a bigger portion than Rowdy?  Will he add yogurt?  Will he top it off with salmon oil? 
I hear him humming calmly as he mixes the food in the plates.  What do I do now?  Logically, I know that only seconds have gone by since I've waited at the end of the hall, but it must be an eternity and it's just too nerve-wracking so I head into the bathroom.  I whip back the shower curtain with my large schnoz and jump inside the tub.  Surely I will find solace here until the next few seconds when I hear him call me, finally, for dinner.
Then I hear him walk down the hall...Nooooo!  Keep working on that dinner.  He eyes me in the bathtub, my eyes filled with utter apprehension.  He smiles, and get this - he actually takes precious time to grab a camera, and takes the above photo of me!  Are you freaking kidding me?  You're going to share my insecurities with the world?  It's not funny in the slightest.  He laughs at my anguish but I know in the back of my head that I am Joey and victory will soon be mine.
He steps back into the kitchen and then I hear it:  that final clinking of the fork against the plate.  Clink Clink Clink!  He calls it "Pavlov's clink."  I rush out of the bathtub knowing that my sustenance is finally at hand.  It's really just seconds now. 
He asks me to sit.  I oblige him.  It's finally here.  Oh yes, oh yes, oh YES!  My dinner!  My beloved dinner.  9 seconds...8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1....and it's all gone, just like that. I lick my lips.  I keep licking the plate in hopes that more will miraculously appear.  He asks me if it was good.  I wag my tail.  All is right with the world.
And now I wait.  Just 12 hours to the next feeding.