Poor Pace.

He’s restricted in his diet to boring Costco organic kibble because of health-related conditions. That means, no leftovers. It kills him to smell the food we eat and not get some. His eyes follow me when I’m in the kitchen, especially if I’m cooking meat. He hovers. He stares. His ears perk way up and he bounces to his kibble dish every time I move in that direction. He tries desperately to stay out of my way (he’s a very sensitive dog who hates to hear the words, “Go on now, Pace”), but his nerves are stretched so tautly by the mere possibility of a leftover, that he can’t bear to let me out of his sight. So, he hovers at a discreet distance.

Pace is so keenly attuned to his food dish, that when I drop a piece of food (any kind of food) into his bowl, he comes skidding around the corner, awakened from a deep slumber in a back bedroom, just by the faint sound of something moving in his food bowl. If it is nothing more than boring co-op food (the kind “Hank the Cowdog” disdains), he looks so disappointed.

Sometimes I wonder who really has the eating disorder.