If you’ve ever met my dog, Cody, you’d agree that he’s practically perfect in every way. I mean, come on, he has brown puppy-dog eyes that match my sofa. Can your pet lay such a claim? I thought not.

Cody also answers to ‘hey, stop peeing on the carpets’, ‘did you eat my shoe AGAIN?’ and ‘come back here, you fluffy idiot.’ But above all, Cody is loyal to a fault. I realized this one day when I found myself in a precarious situation, on top of my kitchen table with Cody flashing his white fangs at me underneath.

Cody and I were the perfect pair. We shared a common love for food, walks, and watching sitcom reruns. However, our perfectly synchronized relationship took a slight detour on sunny Tuesday afternoon. On said Tuesday, I found this packet of smoked chicken bites at the farmer’s market, a perfect treat for Cody. Well, as it turned out, Cody liked the chicken bites. He liked them a lot. It wasn’t chicken bites – it was ambrosia, it was manna, it was the food of the doggie gods.

As we got home, Cody practically bolted towards his food bowl, not bothering with his usual ritualistic house tour involving sofa scratching, shoe-chewing, and tail-chasing. Seeing his enthusiasm, I, as the benevolent fur-daddy, popped one chicken bite after another into his bowl. What can I say? I’m a softie.

Cody devoured the bites as if he had an inside scoop about an upcoming global chicken shortage. As I moved to grab the almost empty packet and toss it in the trash, he lunged towards it. And boy, was it fast! I barely escaped being toppled by his furry Hulk-like mass. With the packet securely trapped under his paw, Cody looked ready to wage war for his chicken bites.

That’s when I found myself on top of the kitchen table, looking at my beloved pet who had one paw on the chicken bites and the other… well, pointing menacingly towards me. A few moments ago, we were both fans of sitcom reruns and random walks. Now, he was ominously growling at me, protecting his chicken bites against his own fur-daddy. I have suffered heartbreaks, but this was right up there with the time my high school crush thought I was her brother.

In this moment of crisis, I only had one slender thread of hope. Cody might not answer to his name, but he’s never turned down his favorite squeaky toy – ‘Mr. Waddle’. Very slowly, without making any sudden movements, I edged towards the toy basket. I fished out Mr. Waddle and waved it at Cody.

In that moment, for Cody, it was a choice between the new love of his life – chicken bites and his decade-long loyalty to me and Mr. Waddle. I swear I saw him cast a longing look at the enticing smoked chicken, but then he glanced up at me. It was a moment of triumph as Cody yanked his paw off the chicken and thudded away, chasing the squeaky duck.

He came back, nudged my leg, dropped Mr. Waddle on the kitchen floor and looked up at me as if to say, “I choose you over chicken bites. Please don’t buy them again.”

My dog might be a crazy, saliva-dripping-oops-there-goes-my-shoe-again kind of dog, but Cody had shown me just how loyal he was, chickens and terrors notwithstanding. As I admired Cody with a heart full of gratitude, hope, and surprise, he swiftly nudged the chicken packet off the table, wagging his tail in victory. What can I say? Apparently, loyalty and a big appetite can coexist.

So the next time you’re down the pet food aisle, just remember, loyalty comes in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes, it even looks like a fluff ball willing to wage a war over chicken bites, but will always come back to grab hold of that squeaky toy-minus any bites.