This is what we read when first adopting our greyhounds - feed, walk, bit of a pat on the head, etc.
Oops, a couple of years on or so . . . this is Bali, waiting in the kitchen for 'Crust Time' (breakfast) where we sit at the table, surrounded by salivating dogs waiting to be hand fed bits of toast, after which they will have walkies and collapse onto all available living room furniture for the rest of the morning, to be disturbed only by Lunchtime, further walkies and much, much stroking, whispered words of endearment and kisses on the head.
Not bad, eh? But then having escaped from terrible lives of beatings and bare concrete pens as hunting dogs, I suppose they deserve as much fuss as they can extract from us and other fellow greyhound worshippers . . .
Hello, are you waiting for crusts? (squeaky voice)
Having to share the sofa