He's Not Food Oriented At All

Few things in our home run on a precise schedule. Very, very few things. One daily event, however, it set in stone: dinner time.

Bailey's dinner time.

Around 4:20 he starts wiggling. Can't sit still. Must cruise into the kitchen and check to make sure that his bowl is in the correct spot. Dinner can't happen if there is no bowl. Around 4:45 he comes back into the living room, and thrusts his head into your lap. Is it time for dinner yet? NO? Pleaseeee?

Come 5 pm he is in a tizzy. MUST HAVE FOOD. NOW.

Heaven forbid we're 10 minutes late.