In order for me to eat in peace, I have to.
You see I have this constant companion. She's been through almost 9 years with me, and at 10 and a half, she's had two strokes and a couple of times was in fights with badly trained dogs.
Not her, the other dogs. They got off leash while straining to attack anything else on four legs and came after her. Lettie won. I saw to that.
So pretty much anywhere I go, she goes. Especially in the house, she's watching me. If I get up to walk out of the room, there are mats strategically placed for her comfort where she'll plop down and watch what I'm doing. If I'm quiet enough she will fall asleep and think all is well.
That is when I snack.
I have found that my 10 and a half year old dog's hearing isn't quite what it used to be. I can get out of the chair, set the laptop down on the coffee table and walk to the kitchen without being heard.
Sometimes, not always.
When this happens and she wakes up, my little "Officer Dog" will do a "perimeter search". She will literally scan the entire house until she finds me. I have been able to get up and do my business and return to the chair and she has missed the episode not realizing that she slept through it.
I'll stand up and walk to the kitchen and grab that snack and if I am quick enough, the dog won't realize where I am.
The problem is that the Parrot is a snitch.
Oscar, who I have had since 1986, will start to beg as well. First it's a chatter. Later it becomes a "clock ticking" of "Hello" that gradually gets louder until the dog is awake and realizes that something needs her attention.
I'll get arrested by Officer Dog after she's sent after me by the Snitch Parrot.
Sometimes it works and I give her some, but there is a better way.
This little 1200 Square Foot House has a tiny laundry room off of the kitchen. I can just squeeze in there. As big as I am at 6'4" (193 cm), my shoulders brush the walls, I just fit under the shelves, and it's quite "cozy" as the real estate brokers would say. It is also one person in, one person out and if a second person tries to come in they won't fit. The "floor space" that is left after the washer, dryer, shelves and assorted crap is literally narrower than my shoulders.
While Officer Dog is out doing her Perimeter Search, and Snitch Parrot is winding up his chattering, I have grabbed the banana. Yes, I grabbed a banana and walked into the laundry and wolfed it down before I was spotted.
This morning the banana skin hit the trash bin, the lid slammed shut, and Officer Dog then appeared. Snuffling around the trash bin she must have known what happened, but merely looked dogged in her determination to find just the last morsel that was not dropped on the floor.
That reminds me, I need to vacuum the kitchen. The floor is almost as furry as I am.
So yes, instead of sharing, I'm sneak-feeding. Standing inside the laundry room in front of the dryer is my preferred place. I'm out of sight of the eagle eyed parrot, out of nose range of the determined Border Collie. I've found my restaurant. It is on top of the Dryer in a tiny little room next to the air conditioning air handler.
The more noise the better, it hides my criminal act of not paying one Officer Dog her cut of a bit of banana.
That reminds me, it's time for me to finish my breakfast and get that banana that I have been thinking about while writing this. Sorry, you can't join me in there. It's too small of a space.
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