aka Buster
Last night, he ate 2/3 of the dark chocolate that my sweet Valentine gave me yesterday. It was my fault for leaving it within striking range, and we all know that he’s a complete whore when it comes to eating, but still… after all these years of faithful kibble-dishing and running and playing and even cuddling, I can’t believe the dirtball stole my Valentine.
He didn’t steal the entire thing. I guess he felt sort of guilty or, more likely, he didn’t have time to finish the job before I performed stealus interruptus, but he left me this…
It almost looks like there might be something salvageable, protected by the Maya Gold.
But no.
I don’t know about you, but I’m not willing to bet that there’s a part of that not sprayed with dog slobber.
After such perfidy, I could at least hope that his miniscule conscience would be guilt-wracked. Unable to sleep, etc.
However, this just in…
There is no justice in the world.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
I’m sure he’s hiding his face in shame. Or perhaps hiding from the hydrogen peroxide turkey baster he so loves
.
I believe justice came in the form of a red ring of fire
No offense, Buster, but you did this over a month ago. Time to do something else tricky so your mom will write on her blog again. Deal?
<3 Jen