Thursday, April 16, 2009
I got myself in a bit of trouble with the owners last night. It appears that snatching a plateful of lasagna is not looked upon highly in my household. This is not something new for me - I've gotten myself in trouble with food plenty of times. I just can't help myself. Let me tell you about last night. The bulk of the family had just finished their meal and the only one left was the eight year old - which is the norm around here. Because of my past transgressions, I am always placed outside until the meal is over. Well, the eldest boy finished his meal first and then was excused to go outside and work on his baseball swing. Now, whenever I know there are people eating inside, I try to perch myself at the backdoor. That way, I am able to take full advantage of any slip- ups, which thankfully was the case this time. The boy came out fumbling with his equipment, which enabled me to slip by as he struggled to avoid dropping anything. By this time, the big cretin and his wife had finished their meals and started to clean up the kitchen. That left the youngest boy at the dinner table. He had not eaten much despite the various pleadings of his parents. My keen dog hearing picked up that he had been particularly excited about the activities from school that day. This led him to spend most of the meal relating his experiences. Sneaking into the dinning room, I first noticed pieces of biscuit crumbs lying on the wood floor, mainly by the little one's feet. I decided to act like a Hoover and make quick work of this fortunate mess. As I was extracting every last miniscule morsel of Pillsbury goodness off of the floor, I heard the little one call out that he was going to use the bathroom. I waited a few seconds and then came out from under the table to investigate. I was initially expecting to find a small portion of whatever they were having, but instead found almost a full portion of wonderful lasagna on the boy's plate! Knowing that I had limited time, I decided to quickly gorge myself before any discovery ruined my chance. Just as I was about to finish cleaning the plate to a bright, white, luminous sheen, there was a high pitched scream that no doubt shook the windows of the house. "Hey, that's mine!" was what I heard as my tongue finished its last caress of the smooth, white, melamine plate. Almost immediately afterwards, I heard the rumble of the quick moving, "Union Pacific Pinhead " as it barreled in from the kitchen with wife in tow. I was quickly snatched by the collar and roughly hustled to the backdoor like a homeless person trying to attend the Governor's Black and White Ball. He even had the nerve to administer a stinging smack to my derriere as he forced me thru the door. "How rude!" I thought and, "How dare he touch me with his dirty meat mitts!" I fumed as I scurried for the safety of my dog hole behind the hibiscus bush . Lying safely in my underground fortress, I could hear the big goon questioning his older son about who had let the dog in. The reply was a weak, "I didn't do anything", then a slam of the door. The matter was finished and I was once again - victorious! Pleased with myself, I decided to move over to the grass to digest the wonderful meal I had just wrangled for myself. My joy was heightened by the discovery of tasty spaghetti sauce caked upon the sides of my snout and whiskers during my haste. Yes, I had gotten my way again. Score one point for the dog and zero for Team Doofus. I hope to get inside again tonight. I hear they are ordering Chinese take-out.