Every evening at 6pm, Sami starts.
Not barking. Not whining. Nothing that dramatic. He just... appears. In the kitchen. Near his bowl. Looking at you.
You check the clock. 6:00. Give or take 3 minutes. Every day.
He doesn't eat until 7:30. Sometimes closer to 8. He knows this. We know this. Everyone in this house knows the timeline. And yet, at 6pm, the campaign begins.
It's the most patient form of lobbying I've ever seen. No demands. No escalation. Just presence. He sits near the bowl. If you make eye contact, he looks at the bowl. Then back at you. Then at the bowl. Like he's giving you a very polite PowerPoint presentation with one slide.
If you leave the kitchen, he follows. Not urgently. Casually. As if he also just happened to need something from the living room. Then he just... sits nearby. Watching. And sometimes he paws your leg. To remind you he exists, he’s there, something needs to happen.
An hour and a half of this. Every single day.
I've started admiring it, honestly. If I had that kind of discipline at work, I'd be running a Fortune 100 company. No emails, no follow-ups, no passive-aggressive Slack messages. Just showing up to the same place, at the same time, with absolute confidence that the outcome will eventually arrive.
He's never wrong, either. Dinner always comes. Maybe that's the lesson. Maybe the lesson is that patience works if you genuinely believe it will. Or maybe the lesson is that my dog has figured out the optimal nagging strategy and I've been outplayed.
Probably that second one.
Bobby