Who Wants Yogurt? A Beggy Dog’s Morning

Standing in the kitchen mulling over the day, I was debating what project to attack first.

Shall I get the latest SugarCRM system and try to install it in a Virtual Computer?  Probably not, I can do that in my sleep now.

Train a bit on my Microsoft Sharepoint Server?  Probably will.  I have a Windows Server 2012 virtual machine with Sharepoint installed.  I can start that up and work on it from the safety of my browser.

There are some video projects that I need to edit down and water mark.  That stuff is always fun but it takes time to move a DVD worth of video off of the device to get it to the work station.

The Microwave bleeped at me breaking my concentration.  Three cups of milk, now at 200F, that needs to cool so I can make more yogurt.

Looking up from the counter, away from Mom, my Sourdough Mother, I saw the reflection in the sliding glass door that led out from my Florida Room.  I was being watched.

Rack, my McNab Dog, can be a bit too smart for his own good sometimes.  If I leave him in the house while I am having breakfast, I get stared down.  Guilted into sharing my Cranberry and Plain Yogurt, I will leave a tablespoon in the bowl when I am through and place it in his food bowl.

I guess the boy’s come to expect that.  Stare Down Dad, He’s a Soft Touch.

When breakfast time comes, usually a good 2 hours after I am out of bed, I ask him if he wants to use the backyard.  Black and white fur moves on cat like feet, with a grace I can only achieve on 10 inline skate wheels.   Safely sealed behind glass, I walk back into the kitchen and have a bowl of oatmeal followed by a bowl of homemade yogurt with some cranberry sauce.  I must have the most healthy insides on the island after that stuff!

You see Mr Dog has learned how to use a mirror.   The first time I introduced him to the house, he walked into the master bedroom and saw the mirror on the wall.  Full length, he cocked his head, sniffed the other dog, and realized he smelled like glass instead of…

Well you get the picture, he wasn’t really concerned with the dog in the looking glass.

I didn’t realize he understood that well enough to look at what I was doing in the kitchen, supposedly out of view. 

And. Dogs. Like. Yogurt.

Lots.

Really.

Lots.

At least my dog does.

Rack will sit down near the door, on the deck by the pool, and watch both the window and the door.   He now knows to look at the reflection on the glass and see what is going on in the well lit kitchen behind the coffee gear and the solid wall.

Amazing dog.  Really.  They’re always two steps ahead of you.

Not wanting to feed into the food begging, I finished up my pinkish blobs of cranberry goodness, and rinsed the bowl out.

Walking to the backdoor, I let him in.  Rack made a bee-line for his food bowl hoping I would forget being Dad once, and become his bestest buddy once again.

Nope, sorry, pal, you’re not getting a snack this morning.  Better luck next time.  Nobody likes a beggy doggy.

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