When I saw the box of popcorn chicken sitting all alone on our still undecorated Christmas tree, I was befuddled. “Is that a KFC Christmas ornament?” I asked. The kids shrugged noncommittally, which I took as an affirmative. How would I know? I haven’t eaten there since the Clinton administration. This was Grandparent work, make no mistake.
It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized that it was not a KFC box-like ornament, but an actual empty box, trash, that one of the kids had stuck on the tree for reasons unknown.
Which of course a dog plucked off the tree as soon as they had 10 minutes alone with it.Β
Brody, of course. He is always the troublemaker in events such as this. But, it was a box that ostensibly smelled like greasy chicken, so I had to give him a pass on that.
I did not, however, give him a pass on what I found in the kitchen:
A mysterious powdery substance blanketed the floor. Had Charlie Sheen broken in during the 15 minutes I was out of the house when all this mischief transpired? What was that stuff?
It looked like flour, but all my flour was in sealed canisters. And what would a dog want with a bag of flour? Was it stevia? Sugar?
For lack of a better plan, I stuck my finger in the remnants and took a taste. It reminded me somewhat of coffee creamer, of which there was none in the house.
The packaging had mostly been ingested by the perp as well. All I had was a sliver of a hint as to its origins:
I thought it was rawhide until I looked more closely and realized it was brown paper. And then it all made sense- the dairyish taste, the sticky texture. Somehow Brody had gotten a bag of Fido’s Frosting out of the pantry and eaten the whole thing. At least it was just powdered yogurt, something specifically made for dogs- not like I keep bags of xylitol laying around, but, well, good thing I don’t.
“Brody,” I said, looking at him with a mixture of frustration and confusion. “How did you get this off the middle shelf of the pantry? Did you have an accomplice?”
He didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed.
Usually in these situations he slinks a little, or hides behind the counter. “You’re getting good,” I said. “Your poker face almost has me convinced you had no part in this.”
Then, I heard it. A persistent lick-lick-lick. The kind of lick one might make if one were, for example, trying desperately to hide the sticky evidence left by the combination of powdered yogurt and dog saliva.
She might have gotten away with it if she weren’t jet black.Β No, that’s not white fur on her nose.
Or her chest. Or her feet. When I finally put two and two together, she just sat there with a shocked expression like I caught her nose deep in a pile of blow and it was so funny I just had to sit there and laugh. And take pictures.
Poor Brody. Not a crumb on him, by the way.
Vonny says
Oh those soulful eyes on her. I think I would forgive her for almost anything.
Deborah Mendez says
I’m with Vonny — all is forgiven!
Cathey Avery says
Poor Koa! She must have had such an awful life before you got her – she looks guilty even when she’s happy! And Brody, he almost never looks guilty. I’m positive it took 2 to tango – and I have to admit, we have had these incidents in our home more than once, and I too am usually rolling on the floor laughing because their faces are so cute! And as for the child, “I know nothing!” is always the party line!!
Michelle Cotton says
My theory: Brody pulled the bag out and started to rip it open when Koa came along and was all, “No Brody! That’s bad! Mom is gonna be mad. We have to hide the evidence so you don’t get into trouble!” (Cause she is such a good girl everything she does is out of love, of course.) So she then ate all the evidence in hopes of sparing Brody from a stern talking to. Alas, poor Koa did not realize that being black the evidence would be written all over her face. Poor, poor Koa. π And of course, Brody is still, “You know you love me.”
Dr. V says
Ha! Poor Brody can’t catch a break. You’re probably right.
Sue W. says
Koa could teach a class or two on getting away with mischief. ALWAYS look guilty, then when you actually ARE, no one even looks your way. She’s seriously clever. Then again, Brody has a good take on it also. Always look goofy and cute and when you are caught, people will just laugh. Everything I learned in life, I learned from dogs. π
Dr. V says
So very true, Sue!
Lisa W says
Love it! Thanks for the Friday morning laugh!
Dr. Marie says
Bahahaha…that is awesome. They both kind of look guilty though. π
Caroline says
This totally made my morning! So….dying to know how either of them got it off the middle shelf. Grandparents again? π
Dr. V says
I found another bag someone had placed on the wrong shelf, so I think someone reorganized my pantry and committed a grave error. I have it specifically striated based on who needs access to what- kids versus pets versus me. Chocolate on the top shelf, shoved in the back in a secret padlocked vault.
Anonymous says
Oh poor Koa. π Her eyes would make me give her even more treats though. What a sweet face.
lauren says
ha ha ha. cute pix!
Tamara says
I think I’m firmly in Forgive Koa Anything camp ;O) Brody too, for that matter.
Dr. V says
I do, fortunately for them. π
Amy says
And to all of the “experts” who claim that animals (dogs) do not feel guilt I point to this as a perfect example. The usual suspect is saying not me this time, not me, and the guilty party is displaying guilt.
Dr. V says
I know all the behaviorists disagree this happens, but Brody was fully professing his innocence even in the face of my obvious disapproval.
Nubia Rojas-Blas says
Reminds me of a song by April Smith. At the concert I went to she prefaced the song with, “Everyone thinks this song is about my husband…including my husband. When he first heard it, he was like, ‘Awe, honey, that’s so sweet.’ and I said, ‘Its about the dog.’ ”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sre8iO0u4vY
Dr. V says
Hysterical! π