He’s trying to decide if he could grab that steak and run under the house before anyone notices.

The answer is no, because he’ll knock the entire grill over trying to get it, and he secretly knows this but hates to admit it.

So now he’s debating between possibly getting to eat half of it before they lock him in the house, or being patient and getting some of the scraps put in his bowl thus maintaining his Good Boy status.

It’s an eternal struggle

I want to give it forehead kisses

Steak, mushrooms, onion…and wtf? Chicken shins?