Slowly she eats. Her method flawed, with miss after miss, until her fork tines finally run through a small morsel of food. As she lifts her fork up towards her lips, ever-more carefully aiming for her delight, she watches her progress. Closer it comes, her anticipation increases, a smile pushes one cheek up a bit. Her mouth opens and her lips extend toward the oncoming lump of yum. As the fork closes the gap between it and her mouth: PLOP! The food falls. It falls down into the chasm of her lap, rolling now over the ripples of her shirt. Down, down onto the floor. SMACK goes the dog's lips as he snatches and gulps the food in an instant, swallowing her anticipated joy.