I now know that dogs get two meals a day. No midday meal for doggie me. Not for the next week, anyway. Breakfast is by way of scatter feeding. It's a dog thing.
Mary introduced scatter feeding at breakfast for the best of reasons. She read out all the advantages to me that first night as I lay shivering and shaking in my pet crate. I was recovering from a severe ball beating she had administered in almost the first minute of my life as her pet. Okay, I deserved it, no need to go over that. Enough to say that I hadn't quite got the adoring, obedient pet thing down pat. An attitude adjustment was in order. Not complaining, but it was very sore.
Because of my traumatised state following the ball beating, Mary decided it would be safer, or more secure, to keep me locked in the crate for the night. She was probably worried that I might try and leap through the backdoor window and make a run for it, or, if I was still feeling dog-like, sneak upstairs and attack her; tear lumps out of her throat with my teeth while she was sleeping, in best XXL Bully dog style.
Even though she was caging me for the night, she was most solicitous, guiding me in on my hands and knees, head first. That meant I was facing the wall, my head away from the entrance side of the crate. Before closing the crate door behind me, she slipped her hand between my legs from behind and gently gripped my sore and tender balls. I froze, fearing more punishment, emitting a few shivery 'wheeii, wheeii' beseeching whimpers. But she just ever so gently massaged my balls, rolling them slowly over and back against my groin. The pain gradually eased.
"I didn't like to have to do that to my little doggie pet, especially on your first night," she whispered from somewhere behind my ear, continuing to softly knead my aching testicles. "But all the books say that the puppy has to learn from the get-go just who is the boss. Dogs are very hierarchical. It's part of being a dog to know where you come in the pecking order and to behave accordingly. And you do understand that now. Don't you, Doggie?"
"Woof."
"Good dog. Rover is the name I'm giving you, by the way. It was that or Spot. Rover suits you better, I think. Don't you?"
"Woof," I agreed. Not that I cared what she called me just then. But I now knew where I was in the pecking order, and what that meant: Total obedience. I also knew she still held the riding crop in her other hand.
"I'll get your other blanket, before I lock you in. You can snuggle under that for the night. Be nice and cosy in your crate. Won't that be nice, Doggie."
"Woof." I agreed again, even though one part of me felt like telling her where to take all her weechie, weechie, wee, baby talk. But that part of me had already gotten my balls beaten, and was in retreat. The other part won out, the part of me that still wanted to be her pet dog. After all, I was only twenty minutes into my week long dog life experiment and I was the one that wanted it in the first place.
On mature reflection, or after Mary had straightened out my thinking on the subject, I accepted that It was wrong to think about bailing out before the experiment had even begun. Mary was still massaging my balls gently while letting me know what lay ahead.
"Good, Doggie. Now I'll give you a little heads up about how the mornings will go. First, I'll let you out of your crate and put you on the long lead. That will be tied off to something in the back yard, letting you roam around the patio area and a bit up into the garden. You'll probably need to pee after being locked in your crate all night. Then, I'll give you your breakfast by scatter feeding. That means I'll fling the dried kibble out the kitchen window into the yard and you go around finding each piece and eating it. Got that?"
"Woof," I acknowledged, obediently, even though it sounded like a pretty grim way to start the day, but what else could I say? An occasional shudder still ran through me as I recovered from the ball beating. Whatever my owner suggested was good by me. But she must have sensed the doubt in my woof.
"Don't be alarmed, Doggie. This is not some punishment. There are very good reasons for feeding a dog this way. I'll read out what it says in my dog training booklet. But first let's get you get settled in the crate. Lie down and I'll put the second blanket over you."
Ahh. She was being nice to me now. Reinforcing my good compliant behaviour. The pet had learned his lesson. Well, he had. I wriggled around till I was lying on my side, my back against the wire mesh of one side of the crate, my front facing up the room looking towards the open living room door. Through it, I could hear the muted tones of some programme on the TV. I could see the couch I wouldn't be allowed sit on for the next week. The warm low lights scattered about the room contrasted with the harsh single central light shining down on me through the top of the crate. Two worlds on view. The world of human comforts and civilisation versus the harsh world of the caged animal who, next morning, would be sent out to scrabble about for his breakfast in the yard.
Mary reached into the crate and tucked the folded blanket under my chin, wrapping it over my mitt encased paws and pressing it down behind my back between me and the wire mesh. I felt like a toddler being tucked into his cot. It was nice, a little comfort at last. I heard the catch click into place when she closed the crate door. No need for a padlock. For all intents and purposes, I was locked into the crate until she chose to open the door and let me out. I heard her rustling through her booklet as she sat out of my line of sight on the only chair in the room.
"Now, let me see. Here we are: 'Scatter feeding is an easy way to enrich your dog's day. Dogs are natural scavengers. Scenting and foraging for food mimics what they would be doing in the wild, and releases dopamine which makes them feel good. A dog's sense of smell is its most important sense. Exercising our dog's brain and bodies through their nose helps them to become calmer, more settled and satisfied. Scatter feeding taps into that sense of smell, and how they naturally explore the world around them.' That's what the experts say about scatter feeding, Rover. Basically, it's good for dogs. Let's them exercise their sense of smell."
"Since you are a dog, we must find ways to make full use of your sense of smell. The pellets are flavoured with something, beef I think, so that should help you smell them out. Of course you'll be able to see most of them, those on the patio anyway. But those that land in the grass will probably need a bit of sniffing out. As an incentive for you to find all your breakfast pellets, I will add a day to your dog life for each food pellet I find or step on later in the day. Deal?"
What choice did I have, but to agree? But that's pressure. That will make breakfast my most anxious meal of the day. I gave a downbeat 'woof' just to stay on the right side of my owner, and feeder.
"Now sleep tight, Doggie," Mary concluded briskly, not moved by my lack of enthusiasm for scatter feeding. She snapped the booklet closed and walked out into the living room without a backward glance. I watched her departing back as she switched off the light and then closed the door, plunging me into darkness. My first night as a pet dog commenced. My balls were no longer actively throbbing and sore, but no doubt were still tender and swollen. I would have liked to give them a gentle rub, but even though my paws were no longer tied to my collar, the hard pads didn't allow for doing anything gently.
