Truth or Coincidence? For the Love of Scrambled Eggs

Once upon a time, I started feeding Charlie scrambled eggs.

Just a few crumbles, in the morning, on top of his regular food.
He used to be patient.
I would eat my eggs, first, allowing time for his eggs to cool.
And, he would sit quietly.

As time went on, however, he grew less patient,
staring at me, at first, with with his wide, chestnut brown eyes,
as if willing me to pour the eggs from the pan;
eventually, adding a whimper, or a small grunt,
progressing into an impatient bark, or two.

Sometimes, I forget about the eggs, cooling in the pan.

Charlie will intentionally position himself directly in front of me, and with several loud,
demanding barks, let me know that he is no longer messing around.

This morning, I forgot.

I was engaged in a television program, when suddenly, the show paused.
I looked over to my left, where, two cushions over, sat the remote.
And, next to the remote, sat Charlie, staring at me with those pleading eyes.

Coincidence? Probably.
But, somehow, Charlie had pressed the pause button with his paw,
which reminded me about his eggs, cooling in the pan.

Only Charlie knows the truth, and he knows he loves his eggs.