Fine Dining.

I was cutting bits of roast beast off of a chunk of meat from one of the two rib bones of our leftover Christmas dinner to give to Moonie. Ray was standing in the middle of the kitchen, waiting to see if he was going to get anything. I hadn't planned on giving him the rib bone, but it looked too good to waste. I turned and held the bone under his nose. Ray gingerly took it in his teeth.
I went back to the task at hand, cutting the bits into even smaller bits for the old cat. The thought crossed my mind that I should see where Ray was going with his greasy bone, so I looked around to check on the dog.
There was a little pool of dog drool right where Ray had been standing. The pool turned into a string of saliva that stretched from the kitchen into the living room. I followed it from there into the front hall where Ray was standing over his bone, a few flecks of meat dotting the carpet around his feet. I couldn't turn the poor dog out into the cold so I went to get one of the spare dog throws. I picked up his bone, flung the old tablecloth on top of the carpet, and dropped the bone back where it had been.
Ray settled in. Twenty minutes later, not a morsel of meat remained on the bone and Ray was upstairs on the bed sleeping off his treat.

Excuse me, waiter, could you suggest a nice red to go with my dinner.

I enjoy dining in an establishment with table linens.

My compliments to the chef. This is truly the best rib bone I've ever had.