I'm not Eating That Piece

Raleigh does a very wierd thing with his food.

Being the sissy that he is he has to have a special diet. He eats a high-quality dry dog food that we buy from the pet store (whose name I will not mention unless they want to pay for an endorsement).

It is Raleigh's fervent beleif that he should eat what Perry and I eat. He waits with polite solemnity while we dine. Nine times out of ten, when we have fineshed eating, I put a spoonful of whatever we ate on top of his dry food. I don't ever give him more than a spoonful. I have learned from experience, if I let him gorge on people-food he spends the next twelve hours cutting farts that are bad enough to clear a dance floor.

Okay, I lied.

I don't wait until we finesh eating. I settle in my chair comfortably, take two bites from my delicious homecooked dinner and then, as if my head were a marionette and my dog controlled the string, my attention is drawn to Raleigh lying on the floor across the room.

Raleigh has perfected a look that says 'that's alright, carry on, eat your dinner. I'll just lie over here alone and hungry.'

The stern command of the owner-trainer rings in my memory, 'always finish your dinner before you feed the dog. It will make him respect you.'

But, but....I am powerless over that look!

'Oh alright!' I say. Perry rolls his eyes.

In an attempt to win back some of the respect I am loosing I order Raleigh to 'come' and 'sit' next to his food bowl, which he does, perfectly. The bowl is full because he never eats more than a quarter of his breakfast. I dribble onto his dry food a spoonful of chicken skin or soup broth or grilled talapia, or whatever we're having that night. I make him 'stay' until I am seated back at the table.

'Okay!' I tell him.

He pauses for a moment (it's a pride thing, he never wants to seem too eager). He carefully eats two bites.

Then - and this is the weird part - he picks up one kibble and places it on the floor next to him.

Then - in perfect standard poodle fashion - he lays down, curls one foot under and - with great civility - he eats the rest of his dinner.

"What is up with that one kibble deposited on the floor?" I ask Perry.

"I don't know," he says, "but he does it every time."