Either our pugs are the most accepting of all animals, or their survival instincts have been suppressed to the point where, instead of competing with each other for food, they collaborate in wholesale begging.
Cleo and Rikki don't know to whom they should look for free handouts.
why r ur hands empty, auntie?
Cleo wonders if perhaps a stray morsel has fallen onto the table. easily accessed, by the way, due to her pole position on her uncle's lap.
it smells like food
The pugs wait patiently. They know, from experience, that if they look pathetic enough for long enough, they will be fed.
feed us now! dammit!