The part where I left her alone Aggie, my twenty-pound mutt, spent some time in her early years out on the streets of of Baytown.
In every other possible way she is a civilized dog, except for this one thing. Whenever Aggie is left alone, she dashes to whatever food is around and devours it. This is often a problem because, well, it's not like I leave out Dog Food. It's always People Food and not the good, healthy kind. Insert story about the time she ate a plate of Ghirardelli brownies.
Last night, I decided to go visit a friend and planned to be gone only for an hour, so, thinking she could be trusted and that I didn't have any food out, I did not crate her.
The part where I was wrong
I returned home to Aggie poking her head through the curtains, wildly wagging her tail. She met me at the door. I should have known something was up.
In my living room there was a package of Chocolate Turltles on the couch and one on the floor - I wouldn't find the package in my bathroom until later that evening. Luckily the packages were somewhat chewed on, but otherwise intact. She wasn't able to make her way into any of them. Thank goodness, or we would have had another shit storm. Insert story about the time she ate a plate of Ghirardelli brownies.
You see, what makes this funny is that the box of Turtles was on my kitchen table which is pushed up against the wall. Aggie, being only two feet on a good day tall, couldn't have just reached the box. No, I'm sure it was a charade. The Little Dog must have climbed up the two chairs, jumped on the table, then walked across the table to where the box was.
And she has a really little mouth, so she must have done this three times to account for each of the chocolate turtle packages that I found. I just can't imagine what was going on in her Little Dog brain each time she grabbed a chocolate, couldn't open it, then climbed up onto the table to grab another. Or why she stopped at three. And why she didn't try harder to rip open the package.
The part where I didn't scold her
Standing there in my living room, taking this all in, all I could do was shake my head. Aggie, I guess filled with guilt, ran into my bedroom whimpering with her tail between her legs and folded into a really little ball. And I just laughed. After all, I was the one who left out the chocolate. I just never thought she'd climb the table to get to it. Or that she could smell it.
So I went and grabbed her from my room, laughing, pet her head and told her it was all "OK."