Supper tonight was another begfest for poor dog Chloe. Her yearly trip to the vet recently showed she has added 5 pounds to her 42-pound frame since we moved to Georgetown. That’s good in the sense that it means she’s adjusted well after a rough start. Bad in the sense that it means cutting down her 1 1/4 cup, twice-a-day feedings to just 1 cup, twice a day.

Now she begs for food even more than she did before, scarfing down her measly cup, then turning to husband, daughter and/or me to see if we’ll give her any of ours. Or at least have the decency to drop a crumb or three. We try not to, but who knows. Maybe that’s how she got to be overweight in the first place. We’re not always the neatest folks.

She never used to bug us for her afternoon/evening feeding, either. But since the food reduction, she’s taken to finding whomever is around by 5 p.m. and staring at them until she gets her food. At first, I (because it’s almost always me with the sucker face) just thought she was asking to go outside, but after a few days — and the realization it was happening consistently around 5 p.m. — I figured out it was food she was after. Not a chance to chase birds or have a barkfest with the neighbor dogs. It was just feeding time.

Poor puppy dog. First, we take away your big backyard and confuse you with a new home, then we cut back on your food once you finally do adjust to your new surroundings. As you’ve proven before, it will take awhile, but you’ll surely adjust. Either that, or your sweet, little, beggar’s face will win us over and you’ll start getting regular table scraps again. Only time will tell which one of us will win. But I’m guessing the odds are in your favor.