Mealtime

When we got home from our walk, dusk was settling in. I turned on a light in the office and sat down to read my email. The rest of the house was dark. He went into the dining room. I could hear his dog tags jingling in the other room.

After a few minutes, he poked his head around the doorway. I was focused on some email message or a blog entry or something. He barked.

No, I said, half sternly, half groaning. He barked again.

I looked at him. He stared back and barked a half-woof-bark. I sat there for a second and then said, Ok.

I went into the kitchen. He watched me as I went to the refrigerator to get some leftovers. Then he walked to his dog food bowl and started to eat. He would take one bite and then look at me to make sure I was still fixing my meal. Then he would take another bite, wagging his tail each time we made eye contact.

He doesn't like to eat alone.

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