BAD DOG…AGAIN

Being a Saturday, I found I had a little extra time on my paws today. Given my stomach is pretty much a bottomless, iron pit, I found myself wanting to eat. Again. Plus, I got a good night’s sleep last night, so when mommy left to go bowling with her friends, I found myself WIDE awake with the whole apartment to myself and nothing on my schedule. Idle paws make for wanting to climb walls! So I looked for something to do… and then I smelled it! She didn’t fully close the lid on the jar of peanut butter! Aha!

So I did what any reasonable dog would do who has suddenly become very comfortable in his surroundings. The chair to the dinner table wasn’t fully tucked in (is that my fault!?) so I jumped onto the chair, and then jumped onto the table, and launched from the table onto the kitchen counter where I found myself a buffet of food. She had cookies in a Rubbermaid container (and with a determined nose, those lids aren’t that hard to get off). She had a whole bowl of candy – most of that I dumped into the sink, I don’t like candy very much, especially when it's in a wrapper. And, to my delight, there it was, sitting on top of the toaster oven, a jar of peanut butter that was just waiting to have the lid pop off. So I pushed that off the counter to the floor, stopped to make sure nothing good was in the garbage (there really wasn’t, but since it was there, it was worth a peek), and then enjoyed the jar of peanut butter as far down as my tongue could reach. It was almost empty, but still quite the score!

In my nose's excitement, I didn’t cover my tracks very well. When mommy walked in the door, she immediately started with the BAD DOG. In all my peanut butter delights, I accidentally turned on the sink and left the water running. And now that I think about it, the garbage was everywhere, and she was really ticked that her entire bowl of candy was soaking wet and inedible. Opps.

So I was put in a timeout while she cleaned everything up. I hate timeouts. I just had to sit there. No belly rub. No ear scratch. No treats. Nothing. Just sit there. And boy did I feel bad. She sure knows how to lay on the guilt. To make matters worse, she moved the table, so there goes my launching pad to the buffet - right when I was figuring it out.

And she kept mumbling something about giving Marley a run for his money. Apparently he’s the world’s worst dog. Personally, I think he sounds like a stand-up chap that I’d like to meet. I bet we’d have a lot of fun together…I might even share my peanut butter.