He just sits there. Looks at me. Looks at Momma. He just can't wait until I'm finished cuz he gets to lick the bowl after I'm done. But he just sits there with those puppy dog eyes. Come on...I invented those eyes. Lemme at least enjoy my food. Bad enough that Momma has to go and tell me it's not really pot roast (can't a boy dream anymore?!?!) but then he has to sit there, pressuring me to hurry, just so he can get a few last licks and trick Momma into thinking the bowl is clean enough to put back in the cupboard (that's what she always tells him, so he's got her trained really good). But yo! Bro! Don't be rushin' me like that. Why you look so hungry anyway? Oh wait. Yeah. That's cuz you're on a diet. WOL WOL WOL. (ok - Momma just told me to be nice or else she'll take the computer away. Guess I just better sit and wait til my 30 min. prison-cell time is over then head back to sleep.) G'nite and sweet dreams to all. Yes, even you, Trot.
Woof!
