A Deep Dive into the Mysterious and Completely Unfair Rules of Human Logic

As a dog, I have very simple needs: food, belly rubs, and the ability to roll in questionable-smelling things. Yet, despite my simple desires, I find myself constantly bewildered by one of the greatest injustices of the modern world—why is the trash can off-limits while the food bowl is perfectly acceptable?

Both contain food.
Both smell delicious.
Both could easily fuel my never-ending appetite.

And yet, when I stick my nose into the food bowl, I get praised. But when I so much as glance at the trash can, I am met with gasps, scolding, and sometimes even the dreaded spray bottle.

I demand answers.

The Trash Can: A Forbidden Treasure Chest

First, let’s talk about the trash can, also known as the forbidden feast, the vault of lost opportunities, and the one place my human loses their mind when they catch me in it.

From my perspective, it is a magical box of endless surprises. Every day, my human throws away things that smell absolutely divine. Leftover chicken, the crust from their sandwich, pieces of bacon they “forgot” on their plate—why? Why would they do this?

And when I try to rescue these abandoned treasures, I get yelled at like I just robbed a bank.

I don’t see how I’m the bad guy here.

The Food Bowl: Bland, Predictable, and Yet “Acceptable”

Now, let’s compare this to the food bowl. It’s predictable, boring, and always contains the same old kibble. Sure, sometimes I get a sprinkle of something special, but let’s be real—it’s nothing compared to the trash can’s ever-changing menu.

Yet, for some reason, my human fills my bowl, watches me eat, and says things like “Good boy!” as if I’ve done something noble.

How does that make sense? If food is meant to be eaten, and I’m a dog who eats food, then why am I only allowed to eat from one place? Where is the logic?!

The Hypocrisy of Human Behavior

What truly confuses me is the sheer hypocrisy of my human’s rules. Let me illustrate my point:

🔹 They throw away perfectly good food. I try to eat it. I get scolded.
🔹 They drop food on the floor. I eat it. They praise me for being a “good vacuum.”
🔹 They put leftovers in a special bin in the fridge. I try to open it. I get scolded.
🔹 They say, “Want a treat?” I take it. I get praised.
🔹 I find an old piece of pizza in the trash. I take it. Suddenly, I’m a criminal.

Humans are impossible to understand.

The “Gross” Argument: A Weak Excuse

My human tries to justify this madness by saying “The trash is dirty, you can’t eat from there!”

Excuse me?

Have they met me?

I have licked mystery puddles, rolled in questionable substances, and eaten things off the sidewalk that I definitely should not have eaten.

And now they want to act like they’re concerned about hygiene?

Ridiculous.

The Great Heist: A Dog’s Plan to Overcome the System

Since my human refuses to see reason, I am left with no choice but to outsmart them.

Here are my tried-and-true methods for breaking into the trash can:

1. The Stealth Mission

Late at night, when my human is asleep, I quietly tip the trash can over and feast in silence. Success rate: 50% (depending on how loudly the can crashes).

2. The Distraction Technique

I pretend I need to go outside. While my human is busy opening the door, I make a break for the trash. Success rate: 30% (if they don’t catch on).

3. The Puppy-Eyes Guilt Trip

I stare at them with the saddest, most heart-wrenching look I can muster. Sometimes, this results in extra treats out of sheer pity. Success rate: 70% (because I am adorable).

4. The Team Effort

If I have a cat sibling, I convince them to knock the trash over for me. I eat, they leave, and no one suspects a thing. Success rate: 90% (cats are sneaky and good allies).

Final Thoughts: Dogs Deserve Better

At the end of the day, I may never truly understand why my human hoards delicious trash and then forbids me from having it. But what I do know is this:

🥩 If food exists, it is meant to be eaten.
🥓 If it smells good, I should be allowed to have it.
🗑️ If they really don’t want me eating from the trash, maybe they should stop putting good food in there.

Until that day comes, I will continue my quest for justice. The trash can is my Everest, and I will not stop until I claim what is rightfully mine.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, my human just threw away some bacon.

I have work to do.