Indy and I are best buds. When Jay leaves for work at night, it’s just us. We watch TV, cook (okay, I cook), read, or cuddle in bed, sometimes blogging. He usually naps during those activities. However when I get up he follows me around relentlessly. Even waiting outside the bathroom for me. I call him my shadow. My 100-lb. shadow… & bodyguard.
Consequently, Indy is also my baking buddy.
He sits (quite adorably) on the rug in front of the sink as I mix & whisk & scoop. He leans his right side against the cabinets, hind legs off to the left side, his head turned & nose just barely reaching right over the counter, sniffing to see what exactly it is I’m doing today. I talk to him as I recite the recipes, or experiment with ingredients. Sometimes he looks up at me intently, as if he’s genuinely listening; or more so, actually absorbing what I’m saying. Other times he lays down on that rug ignoring me, but ever so close to me at the same time. Usually with a paw just touching my foot. And then once it’s in the oven he scoots forward to see. And again, as I move from room to room or from sink to dishwasher he follows me, tail wagging, possibly in hopes that whenever whatever it is I baked comes out of the oven, I have sympathy – or empathy- and ultimately give him a slice.
It hasn’t happened yet. But even as I take my photos, he tries. Respectfully.
Always respectfully. He never pulls anything off the table or eats it without permission. He’s a true gentleman. And of course, aside from being a stellar example of canine restraint, he was well trained by his momma & poppa.
I don’t blame him for trying. There’s a lot of good stuff coming out of my kitchen all the time! A man has to try, has to give it his best shot, even if he knows he’ll be shot down.