On-demand feeding works best for my dog, DJ. When he’s hungry, he'll let me know -- either by nodding his head, whining, or shouting in my ear, “Feed me now — or else!”

And trust me, it's not worth risking this mutt's, "Or else!"
 
Good thing DJ’s the type of dog who consumes just what he needs, ideal for on-demand feeding. The gnarly canine only eats when he's hungry and “just enough.” (Unlike me, I foolishly confess).
 
Of course my privileged pooch has a good thing going. As if hanging with me all day isn't enough -- isn't something trillions of dogs around the world would trade in their left dew claw for...as if.

Consider that DJ is like always sniffin' 'n' snortin' around all this amazing food: better stuff than I eat. "Hand to God," as my bearded Uncle Menachem, the famous shoemaker would say.

Think bison, elk, lamb, kangaroo, salmon, think human-grade. Think fresh greens and tons of carotene. For the love of man, (women too - my personal preference) -- my semi-domesticated canine gets the works -- all the fixins: the bones, the chews, the identifiables!

Maybe that’s why it's impossible to get him on a regular feeding schedule? Amazing food ( Meadys) is simply part of his landscape, not a big deal, as Uncle Menachem would mumble while chewing on a knish..
 
On weekends though, it's a different ballgame. I feed...errr...have tried to feed DJ on a regular schedule. Never worked.  No matter how much I cajoled, begged or blackmailed, the wiry-haired bugger, would not eat when the dinner bell rang.

Finally it occurred to me: He's a dog, an "it" to others, a human pronoun for me. So, if "he's" hungry, "he" will eat.

Guaranteed.

And so he did. Stopped ringing the dinner bell. Put the ball in the terrier's court. When "he'd" get hungry, "he'd" let me know. 

And I knew.

And it worked