"What's wrong Ray?" I asked the sad, blind hound, "Aren't you hungry?"
Ray just stood, head down, not moving, not answering.
I looked at him, perplexed. He had thrown up his dinner the day before and I was worried that maybe he wasn't feeling well.
"Don't you want your breakfast?" I asked.
Ray just stood immobile, his eyebrows doing the dance on his forehead. It was obvious that he was waiting for something.
I went to the fridge and got out my weekend treat, a can of whipped cream. On Saturday or Sunday, I like a shot on my coffee and Ray likes a shot on his dog food. One quick ppfffssshhht later and Ray was eating his breakfast. Not a bad idea, I thought as I ppfffssshhhted my mug o joe. Sometimes dogs have the best ideas.