Behind the scenes at Team Small Dog-Feeding Time.

Sitting or laying down in a row at the bottom of the stairs, not making noise or squirming or spinning in little circles to the right or bitey facing one's neighbor or shaking tennis balls to break their little tennis ball necks or yelling would be way too boring.


But that is the evil Nazi dictatorship that I run here. I am a little bit like Obama I guess. Apparently he's an evil Socialist dictator now, from what I hear. Because he is a fan of health care for all. And I like everyone to sit and wait for their name to be called to come in and get food. I think that Mao did that, right?


When things start to get out of hand, I just shut the back door and walk away. I feel bad for the innocent, patient members of the team, who are ALWAYS Ruby, and can sometimes be Gustavo. Although he has weird habit of getting up and spinning in circles to the right which is also penalized.


Otterpop, though. That dog makes me crazy with her yammering. She knows, and has only every known, her entire life, that dog food is put in bowls inside, and dogs sit outside, and that dogs have to be invited in based on their name and quality of behavior, to eat their food. And boy oh boy do they like their food, a teensy, tiny handful of dry, crackly little dirt colored nuggets. And yet, guess. Just guess. Who is always, without fail, the last one to be invited in?