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My Polar IS spoiled. He's an old man and we're making his last years good.
He is served a lunchmeat and cheese sandwich that has been cut up into eight perfect squares and served on a plate, daily. He finishes that and then receives the "Polar Tax" from both my and my husband's sandwiches.
If we dare to leave the house for even an hour, he is deserving of a bacon/cheddar or banana/peanut butter treat.
He receives doggy ice cream every night for dessert after he finishes his cooked chicken thigh dinner which we've shredded up into the perfect size because the bites can't be too big.
I used to split my steak with him when we had steak, but he now turns up his nose at steak. Talk about snooty.
I have runners on any bare floor that he regularly traverses so he doesn't slip and fall because he has problems getting up from bare floors.
I bought a brand new sofa and loveseat last year. The loveseat has become "Polar's loveseat" and is appropriately covered with waterproof dog blankets for him. He lets us know when it's time for us to move to our couch by running back and forth between the two and snorting. We move for him.
Polar has us well trained and his Royal Highness has no shame in lording it over us.
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