yeah I know you did not ask!
Anyone who has ever lived with a dog for any period of time will come to know that they are creatures of habit, creatures of routine. Señora feeds Princess Lily in the morning, time dependent on when Señora makes the commitment that this really is a new day and rolls out of the warm, embracing bed. But as soon as she does, The Wee Dog is following her around. Señora is very regular on the next feeding of our proxy child at 1700 hours.
Somehow this punctual pooch protegee knows the time, and about five or so minutes before the appointed hour her hirsute self is parked by her food bowl, her eyes tracking Señora.
I am going to find the miniature Rolex watch that must be buried under the fur on her little doggie wrist, and sell it. Maybe then I can recuperate, in part, all the money spent on food, all the money spent on treats, all money spent on toys, all the money spent on vet bills, that Señora has lavished upon our copacetic canine companion… or not.
And so it goes in our little ménage à chienne.