feeding my pet feelings on-chain since 2021.

The Problem

It started innocently.
I used to check the charts during breakfast. I thought my dog, Satoshi (yes, that’s his name), liked the ritual. He’d wag his tail when the candles were green, droop his ears when they turned red.

But somewhere along the way, the behavior got… linked.
Now he refuses to eat unless Bitcoin’s up at least 2%.

The Routine

Every morning I pour his kibble, open CoinGecko, and whisper a prayer to the liquidity gods.
If the market’s green, he devours the bowl.
If it’s red, he just stares—accusingly—like I personally shorted his breakfast.

I tried lying once. I said, “Look, buddy, it’s up today!”
He sniffed my phone, saw the -5% in ETH, and turned away. He knows. I don’t know how—but he knows.

The Attempted Intervention

The vet said it’s “behavioral.”
The crypto therapist said it’s “market-dependent sentiment transfer.”
Twitter said, “buy him more DOGE.”

So I did. I bought him DOGE. Then SHIB. Then FLOKI. Now he won’t go on walks unless I whisper ‘To the moon.’

My neighbors think it’s cute. I think it’s market manipulation.

The Collapse

Last month, when BTC dipped under $50k, he went on a hunger strike. He dragged his food bowl next to my computer and sat there, watching the price tumble, tail motionless.

When I tried to tempt him with treats, he growled—softly, like an angry whale liquidating my portfolio.

I even played bullish YouTube influencers to lift his spirits. He barked at every “sponsored segment.”

The Breakthrough

This morning, for the first time in weeks, Bitcoin rallied 4%.
Satoshi barked, wagged, and inhaled his food like a DeFi yield farm in 2021.

Afterward, he burped and sat by my feet, clearly satisfied. I checked the charts—red again.

He looked up at me, smirked, and walked away.

I think he’s trading against me.