Pie for the Dog

I was sitting right here in this very spot last night, blogging to my heart's content while buzzed on cheap Mexican beer. Truman the dog, with whose care I am charged while my sister is out of town on business, was sitting next to me. I went to the refrigerator to grab some apple pie that my dad made earlier in the evening, and brought it back with me.
Truman the dog was very curious what it was that I was eating, and although he wasn't pushy or thieving about it, he made it clear to me that he wanted to try it as well. It made me start thinking about a few things.

Normally, I don't enjoy it when people eat in front of me, it's just something that I've never particularly enjoyed. It's not so much an acknowledgment of politeness, but rather that I see eating as a communal activity that I really enjoy participating in. I suspected Truman felt the same way.

I also can't help but wonder, however irrationally, if animals that we sometimes keep as pets were actually something else in a past life. For all I knew, Truman was an upstanding fellow of good character who happened to love the taste of apple pie.

Between both of these thoughts, I felt mildly guilty about eating some apple pie in front of Truman, especially with him sitting there and showing the best restraint possible for a well-behaved canine. So I gave him a couple bites. I felt it was the right thing to do.