Piece of my heart

This is the title of my all time favorite song, as performed by Janis Joplin, my all time favorite singer. Evidently, this song has also inspired my dog to become a kleptomaniac. Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

Sunday night Chris baked a heart-shaped loaf of English muffin bread as a Valentines day treat. It was cute. It was thoughtful. It was delicious. Well, the first half was delicious. The second half I can't vouch for because my dog somehow got it down off the counter while I was at work on Wednesday. He ate the remaining half loaf of bread. And part of the bag. I suspect he may have had an accomplice. We yelled at him, he acted all guilty and sulked around the house for an hour or two and that was pretty much the end of it. Until yesterday.

Valentines Day. Chris brought home a gigantic heart-shaped cookie and places it on the counter. We each ate a small piece and left to go grocery shopping. Two hours later we returned home to find one overturned paper plate, several small piles of crumbs and one small black dog having what appeared to be a mild psychotic episode in the middle of the living room. Crap. He ate the whole dam cookie! And he knew he was in trouble so he was hiding. Except, he was so ramped up on sugar that he couldn't hold still. So there he stood cowering under the table while simultaneously hopping up and down and wiggling. Chris and I looked at the dog and then, at each other. What is it with this dog and heart-shaped baked goods?

Black Dog, White Donuts

Who Drank the orange soda

This video reminds me of something that happened at our house a few months back:

On a recent trip to the grocery store, Chris and I had purchased one dozen powdered donuts. In a hurry to leave for work a few mornings later I did not shut the pantry door in the kitchen tightly. Coincidentally, this is where the 11 remaining powdered donuts were sitting still in their box.

Upon returning home from work I found Warp, my dog, running around the house as though he had a rocket attached to his rear. He was MANIC! After closer inspection I noticed a strange powdery white substance all over his muzzle. "Oh no" I thought, "he got into the donuts. I wonder how many he ate." When I walked into the kitchen, I found the pantry door wide open and a few small shreds of the white donut box shoved into the corner of the doorway. The dog had eaten the entire box of donuts (minus 1) and then, desperate not to get into trouble, had eaten the box including the cellophane as well, presumably, to hide the evidence. What my black dog didn't bank on was that fact that the evidence was literally written all over his face.