My completely captivated audience

. . . Is basically my dog, Buster. He is a mutt--half Basenji/half Chihuahua--and is the cutest thing ever. He's the size of an overweight housecat and he can do a five-foot vertical jump from a standing position. Buster's most unnerving habit is the staring he does whenever someone other than him is eating. I mean, I love undivided attention as much as the next Leo, but this? This is intense.

I do a lot of my prep work and eating at the breakfast bar, which looks out into the living room (and, most importantly, the TV). This gives my dog ringside seats to most of my cooking prep and dining. If I'm at the bar, this is usually my view:

Hey, lady. It's cool. Notice me or don't. I don't care.

Seriously, though. Are you gonna eat ALL of that?
I mean, I'm not judging, but maybe you could hook a brotha up.

Hey. Hey. Hey. Lady.

You. Will. Rue. This. Day. You will come home one day and your bed will be seriously disordered and
I WON'T EVEN PRETEND TO BE REMORSEFUL. No one puts Buster in the corner.