As I'm preparing Romeo's dinner, he whines and howls as if I haven't fed him for days -- I'll say, "oh you poor deprived baby, you haven't eaten in 6 whole hours." He whines back and nods like chewbacca, "AHHHHHHHGH."
Also when he's pooping for the seventh time in morning, it's like a liquid funnel gushing out of his butt. He always tries to carfully place his arse over the nearest plant or flower garden, but normally overshoots it by three feet.
When his younger brother Juan (a black pug) gets the same identical treat -- doesn't matter -- by birthright, the treat belongs to Romeo. When I ultimately have to take the treat away, a rumbling sigh can be heard for miles.
It's definitely a boxer's world -- everyone else is just living in it.