First, in excellent doggy news, we are thrilled to announce that Miss Bernadette has gone to an excellent, loving, and permanent home. It was love at first sight for Bernie, who pranced out into the porch to meet her new people, when every other visitor to the dollhouse has had to wait for her to appear from hiding after she felt the danger was low enough to risk showing her shaggy face. I take it as a sign that she was instantly so loving and comfortable with them, a significant departure from her habitual shyness. Hooray!
Now, for the bad news. Sigh.
Sherman has been making a naughty habit of stealing food that doesn’t belong to him. Sometimes, the food comes from the kitchen garbage, although with our new zillion dollar Simple Human trash can, those heists are few and far between these days. He did manage to steal an old rib bone from the bag I’d tied up to take out to the alley yesterday, but that involved chewing through two layers of plastic bag, not figuring out how to open a dog-proof garbage can. There have been occasions when Sherm has snatched food off the counter, like when he nearly lost his speckled life stealing a layer of our wedding cake as it cooled. I think he knows the human food isn’t for him, but he really doesn’t care.
This morning though, I found evidence that Sherman outdid himself. A few days ago, I went grocery shopping and put all the bags of food on the counter while I installed the contents in the proper places in my cupboards, my fridge, and my basement pantry shelves. There was one bag I left on the floor with canned goods and a bottle of dish soap in it, but I didn’t rush to put all that stuff away because I figured it held little appeal for my four-legged roommates.
I didn’t get too worked up when I couldn’t locate the bag of egg noodles I bought on that grocery run, even though my receipt clearly indicated I’d paid for it. Sometimes shopping on the cheap at Superstore exposes a person to these little inconveniences, and of all the purchases I could lose, a two dollar package of noodles is a minor detail. Still, it would have been nice to have the noodles I’ve been craving lately, with a little garlic butter and maybe some parmesan cheese.
Imagine my surprise when I stepped on Sherman’s bed this morning to reach for something in the far top corner of our bedroom closet, and the bed crinkled. It crinkled like plastic. Intrigued, I hoisted the corner of the bed and found a neatly opened, completely empty, package of broad egg noodles. At some point in time, His Royal Shermness was bold enough to steal my noodles, brazen enough to eat them all, and crafty enough to hide the evidence. I was nervous leaving for work this morning, lest Sherman have a huge, starchy blow out all over my bedroom. Thankfully, the gods of peristalsis smiled on us all and Sherm did not get sick.
What Sherm has gotten is extremely gassy, which is saying something for a dog who is a remarkably flatulent fellow on the best of days. Tonight he sounds rather like a symphony made entirely of tubas and bassoons, led by a conductor who cannot read music. Considering how much I spend feeding this creature a low-carb, wheat-free diet (like the bad, crafty dogs in his ancestry) I’m feeling a bit peeved that he helped himself to a big bag of refined flour–even it is was enriched with folic acid and riboflavin.
Truth be told, I’m feeling a little glad that Sherman’s probably had a miserable, bloated day after eating 340 grams of dry pasta. Despite the cold, it may be necessary to our survival to sleep with the windows open tonight. It’s a suffering kind of day in the dollhouse.
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