What have we done?

Allow me to preface this post by saying that Luke is a wonderful dog and I've never, not for one moment, regretted our decision to adopt him. That said, I think we may have created a monster. Luke is a bit of a nervous dog by nature, so from the time he entered our house we did our best to make him feel comfortable and loved. He was a reluctant eater when we first brought him home. So, we encouraged him and praised him and finally, slowly, got him to eat on a regular basis. He seemed to get cold overnight very easily. So, we got him a blanket. He chews on himself when he's nervous. So, we filled the house with doggie chew toys to keep his attention. In short, we've pretty much made him our king. The unhappy result of all of this is:

• He only eats his breakfast if you utter just the right incantation: "Good boy, eat your breakfast." (Or maybe it's "Eat your breakfast, that's a good boy." I can't remember.) Clearly, "eat your damned breakfast" isn't the one. Which, frankly, is unfortunate because that's about all I can muster in the morning.
• He only goes outside to pee if he's instructed to. (In our defense, we didn't have a fenced yard when we first got him. So we had to put him on a leash and take him out, then explain that, no, he wasn't going for a walk. We shorthanded this to: "Go pee, Luke!" Who knew it would have such lasting effects?)
• He refuses to lay down on any of his three beds after, say, 7 at night unless you bring him a blanket. It doesn't seem to matter if it's 73 degrees inside the house and we're wearing shorts. He wants his blanket, by golly, because that's what you get when you want to go to sleep.

I think it's clear we shouldn't have children. We'd only screw them up.