Then: "Before you give Ferris a treat, make him sit, offer paw, and lay down." Now: "Give the monster whatever you want so long as he doesn't get pancreatitis."
Standards have fallen sharply over the years. My dad just tossed Ferris a slice of bologna without preamble (but with permission) and I don't think it even touched the sides of his throat.
The running joke is that Ferris is very handsome and that's the extent of his positive attributes. Obviously that's just a joke because he is a gentle, obedient boy, but sometimes...
Currently he is sprawled across the carpet and heaving frequent sighs. Wasn't allowed to eat a whoopie pie. Wasn't allowed to eat a tofu dog. Only bologna to sustain us. Truly, he suffers.
What makes me really, really happy is how much Ferris loves my dad and loves being at his house. Ferris doesn't much enjoy men. Strange men whom I do not enthusiastically greet are considered highly suspect until proven otherwise. Ferris likes my landlord, but Ferris loves my dad.
So I've always been like OH THANK GOD my beloved dog loves my beloved father, a man I've only seen cry twice and one time it was because our cat had died.
Now: "Give the monster whatever you want so long as he doesn't get pancreatitis."