"Ray, she's eating your food," I said to the dog curled on his favorite chair, "Don't let her eat your food."
Looking only slightly concerned, Ray stared at me. I had just put his dish on the placemat, but Ray was uninterested in eating. He gets that way when the weather turns hot. Juno, however, was more than happy to have a nibble of dog food and had immediately trotted over to see what was for breakfast, her second of the morning.
"Ray, she's eating your breakfast. Aren't you hungry?" I said more urgently this time.
Ray's eyebrows started to dance on his forehead but still he didn't move.
"Oh my gosh, Ray, she's eating the canned food. Don't let her eat your favorite," my voice was increasingly importunate.
Ray's eyebrows were burning a path across his forehead, his ears fully deployed, listening to the sound of Juno licking his food. He could stand it no longer.
The dog heaved himself from his spot and went to loom over the unconcerned cat eating his morning meal. She didn't move. Always polite, Ray waited for her to finish.
I shooed the chubby Dumpling away from his dish so that Ray could get a mouthful of food before Juno finished it off. The hound quickly stepped in before the cat could return. He polished off most of his meal but left a few crunchies in the bowl for his friends.
I smiled and pathetically congratulated myself on being able to outwit a blind dog.