We have two pets: Nick the cat and Tipper the dog. They have distinctly different patterns when they beg for food, particularly when food is being prepared.
Nick runs into the kitchen, trilling or meowing loudly. He paces about the kitchen, getting under foot. He’s very much the outspoken, rushed, cranky customer in a restaurant. He begs for everything … ham, chicken, fish, vegetables, fruit. Nick reaches up and tries to snag treats from the counter. Fortunately, he’s a little short to actually get his paws on the counter and grab food. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. He thinks every can being opened is tuna. He turns his nose up and acts extremely indignant when offered something from a can that isn’t tuna.
Tipper saunters into the kitchen. She finds a place to sit where Nick isn’t likely to be and then watches. Carefully. She knows everything that is happening. It is as if she’s the kitchen manager. She only gets close to the action when she knows something she likes is about to enter the preparations because the likelihood of a tasty morsel being dropped has substantially increased. You hardly know she’s there.