He’s Just a Little Guy

With a Really Big Appetite

Bones showing off his alien eyes. Photo by Author

This little alien I have, Bones, pretends to be a dog. We think he’s imitating some sort of scent-hound, but I think the dedication is a bit much.

Bones uses his nose more than any dog I’ve ever met, and despite having a waist I can fully wrap my hands around, a stomach deeper than the Marianas Trench. He’s a very sweet creature and stage one clinger, but when there’s food around? No one and no thing is safe.

Every other weekend I take the dogs and myself up to my Nana’s and we hang out. We watch Turner Classic Movies in the mornings and football games in the afternoons and evenings. It’s the best combination of entertainment.

My Nana is also the best cook in the family.

Bones is very aware of this, though I don’t think skill matters. Food is food. Also, not-food is food. We have to hide the trash can in the bathroom and shut the door.

Bones likes to thank the Food Lady for her service. He loves the Food Lady very much, she’s makes Good Food. Photo by Author

Bones may only be 20lbs, but he is determined and he is agile. He leaps onto the kitchen table in order to jump onto the kitchen bar. From there he walks all around the counters in search of a morsel of food. He can be in the living room one second and on top of the counter not even two seconds later. He’ll lick at the ghost of a tomato sauce drop and he’ll also drink from my Nana’s leftover coffee- not that he needs any more energy!

He’s almost more persistent than we are. He probably hops the counter a couple dozen times per day and every time we have to collect him. My Nana isn’t as tough or absolute as I am. I think I’ve gained muscle tone in my arms from the amount of times I’ve had to pick him up and carry him away from the kitchen.

That’s not a joke. I genuinely have noticed more muscle tone in my arms since I adopted him. He may be a menace, but he’s also a great workout.

My aunt Carol often visits when I do, a few hours per day, and she remarks on his behavior every time.

“He’s worse than a toddler!” she’s said, more than once. This is coming from the woman whose son was nicknamed “Six” because of how much of a hellion he was as a kid. She was also a nurse working in Medical-Surgical for a good portion of her career. All I can do is look at him when she says that.

“That makes sense,” I say as I hear pots and pans clanging in the sink.

She also compared him to the Energizer Bunny, but I’m willing to bet that Bones outmatches the Energizer Bunny in both energy and sound. Bones could probably howl for food for however long an Energizer battery lasts.

Bones trying to get to an empty container that once held dog food. Photo by Author’s Aunt Carol.

Our solution is simple: Keep him leashed.

My mom and I take turns keeping a hold of him. It’s not an option to lock him in a crate or another room because he’ll howl and howl until it’s all said and done. Maybe if we were in a house we could stand it, but we try to be considerate of the neighbors.

So we leash him. One of us eats first while the other holds onto him, and when that person finishes their meal they take the leash and let the other one eat and clean up. Then we let him go, and allow a final survey of the kitchen so he can settle down.

Bones does the best impression of a scent-hound I’ve ever seen, he surely wins the Most Convincing Cosplay of the Annual Alien Awards, for sure. I’ve heard this year’s big prize is a bag of dog poop. They seem to really like that.

Or maybe that’s just him.

Exhausted from a long day of being a Menace, Bones is slumped on the sofa. Photo by Author.