He would, never grab or show unseemly greed.

He awaited our pleasure and each bone or chop that fell his way was received with every token of mute but eloquent gratitude.
You were constantly made to feel that he loved you for yourself and not for what he hoped you would give him.

If I were to be wrecked on a desert island, I believe there is hardly more than one person that I'd prefer to have as my sole companion than Little Wanderobo Dog.
Perhaps a few words about the architecture of the little dog might not come amiss.

He was built somewhat on the lines of the German renaissance, being low and rakish like a dachshund, but with just a little more freeboard than the dachshund.

His legs were straight instead of bowed, as are those of his distinguished German cousin.