He's Got Me Right Where He Wants Me

To eat out of someone's hand is to do exactly as they wish. 

Look at me feeding dinner to my prince.

Observe my outstretched arms, holding the bowl in midair, so his noble neck need not bend uncomfortably down.

You can't see inside the bowl, but trust me, this is no ordinary dog food dinner. 

His excellency will no longer eat processed kibble or even wet food from the store.

He prefers for me to cook him homemade meals. 

Ground beef and rice.

Chicken, cabbage, and carrots.

Scrambled eggs. With cheddar cheese and a dash of pepper, of course.

Now I never intended to create a culinary tyrant. But my poor boy has lost a lot of weight in the past year. His hips are downright bony, his ribs show clearly beneath his fur. And his appetite has steadily fallen off. 

That's why I'm only too glad to whip up three home-cooked meals a day for my little liege lord.  

And I take great pleasure in watching his majesty wolf down every delicious bite. He literally dances with excitement when he sees the next meal coming, and quivers with delight when I extend his bowl. 

So even though it may appear that I've got my good dog Ranger eating out of my hands, the truth is that things are quite the other way round.