They could always count on me to throw them something from my plate. Usually it’s my sandwich or pizza bones (crusts) that they are guaranteed to get. However, I’ve been so hungry lately that I’ve cleaned my plate in a matter of minutes without even thinking of tossing anything their way. Quite honestly, I’m surprised I still have all my fingers and haven’t mistakenly tried to eat one of them. I caught the look of desperation, disgust, and confusion in my Lab’s eyes yesterday as I polished off my tuna melt sandwich – bones and all. She seemed to say, “What??!!! What is wrong with you? That was MY sandwich bone! Gah…you’re such a pig!” and then sulked off. Now I have graham crackers on the table next to the bed, hoping that if I eat one before I get up I won’t feel the incredible urge to vomit by the time I make it to the bathroom to pee. They keep eying them, like I set them out on the night table as some sort of puppy buffet. I swear, I will kick their ass if they even try to eat them.