Blake used the spoon as a plunger to push all the floating alphabet noodles to the bottom of the bowl. He was not really interested in eating, he wanted to be out in the rain.
Bite by bite, he fed his soup to Rothschild whose name was bigger than he was by 10 fold. The 3 1/2 pound Chihuahua had joined the family shortly after Blake did. They had an understanding when it came to food. Roth wouldn't tell Torie that Blake wasn't eating, if Blake didn't tell Torie Roth was. The union was perfect for days like this.
"I'm done Aunt Torie, can I go now?" he asked as the last bit of carrot fell on the rug at his feet.
"Did you get enough to eat?" she asked without looking up from the project she was working on.
"Yep" and off he went, back into the yellow room with the big bay windows, before she had a chance to answer him. Roth followed with his little tail wagging.
"C'mon Rothy, get up here" he patted his hand on the soft stripes of the window seat cushion, and Rothschild rocked back and forth until he mustered up enough steam to jump that high. "There ya go" he snuggled him into the crook of his right arm, where he stayed contentedly and they both fell asleep.