Spoiled or Pampered

"He's not spoiled, he's pampered." This was how my daughter described Sherlock, our melange (mixture of Yorkie, griffon and who knows what) dog.

Today he slipped over the line to spoiled.

My husband prepared our usual Sunday breakfast, making a serving of eggs for our dog. Those went into the dog dish along with his croquettes. 

Sherlock ate a few than came to sit by me with his "I'm starving" look.

We ignored him until we finished.

"Maybe he thinks ours are better than his."

I went to his dish and with a spoon pretended to eat some.

Nothing.

I then wondered if I put his dish on the table, would he eat. 

He looked at the dish, he looked at me.

We really didn't care if he ate or not, but were curious how his beady little mind worked.

"Try a spoon," my husband said.

He ate not only the eggs but the croquettes from the spoon.

Spoiled.

This will not be repeated soon.