It's wonderful how they (don't) kinda share.
Lou had it, first, laying Frog Dog, nibbling at the round of it. Ollie whined. I let him. 'Twas Louie's turn on the Bone Monster. King Lou growled when His Olliness approached.
Eventually, Louie either lost interest or he (as I like to hope) saw fit for his smallah brothah to pondah the bone-ah.
Ollie chewed. (Not quite as earth-shattering as "Jesus wept," but! It'll have to do.)
Louie made a few more perfucntory growls and then--I assume--said "Fuggit." He ambled onto the cushy couch cushions. Down for the count.
Ollie chewed a little longer and said--I, again, assume--"Fuggit. I be done-done."
And so now the bone lies, on the carpet, no canines canining into it.
Please to call up Cesar Milan? Make his ass tell me the fruther from the druther?