I decided to stop begging for food and waited for permission so diligently that I started missing my own meals. That morning I was lying beside my bowl in the kitchen while my human sliced cheese for breakfast. I wanted a piece without the usual snuffling at her knee. “Astrid, what a polite dog,” she said when I sat up and moved my nose away from the table. Some cheese promptly appeared in front of my paws. So first you sit and ask for nothing. Clear instructions at last.

At lunchtime, my human filled my bowl. I sat in front of it and waited for her to look at me and give me permission to start. Meanwhile, she ate her borscht and read a book. I moved a little closer so she could notice my good manners more easily. Then a little closer still. The bowl stayed behind, because I needed to watch the person, not the food. My human scratched behind my ear. That didn’t count as permission: that morning, she had personally placed the cheese in front of me.

When my human got up to wash her plate, I got up too and sat politely beside the sink. She moved to the table; I moved there as well. Following her around on an empty stomach wasn’t making me feel any better behaved. So I decided to help her understand the procedure: I went back to my food, gripped the bowl by its rim, and carried it right up to her slippers. A few pieces spilled along the way. My human put the bowl on the floor, pointed at the food, and said, “Go on, eat.” I agreed immediately.

That evening, the empty bowl was still beside the table. My human picked up the food bag and patted her knee. “Astrid, bring your bowl!” Delivery was required. She filled it with dinner, set it in front of me, and gave permission straight away. I started eating without hesitation. Now every meal required a little work with my teeth, but at least I no longer had to wait beside someone else’s borscht.