Be sweet and honest always, but for God’s sake don’t eat my doughnuts!
~Emma Bunton
When I graduated from university with my bachelor’s degree in psychology, my husband wanted to make sure that my graduation gift was something that I would always cherish. After many years of apartment living, there was one thing that I missed more than anything: owning a dog. But since I was cursed with allergies, we had to look very carefully into what breed would work best in our household.
Every requirement was easily met when I laid eyes upon a sweet-natured Bichon Frise and Affenpinscher cross. When I picked her up for the first time, she tried to crawl into my purse as if to say she chose us as well.
Martini is the most brilliant dog in the world, but we might be more than a little biased. This has always been the best and worst trait in our puppy. If you have ever caught yourself wondering if maybe your dog is a little smarter than you, you know exactly what I am talking about.
Martini’s downfall throughout her entire life has been her all-consuming love of food. While her appetite has eased a little since her puppy years, her brilliant brain combined with a constant desire for snacks has proven to be a bad mix.
When we first picked Martini up, we decided to take her to a nearby park to bond with us and have a snack. We were not sure exactly when she had last eaten, but we wanted to make sure that she had enough food in her little belly.
While at the local pet supply store, we were given a simulated sausage treat to feed her. As new pet owners, we asked the store employees just how much we should feed her, given her tiny size.
“No worries, she will stop when she is full. Just keep feeding her until she stops eating,” the shopkeeper said. This is not exactly how things worked in reality.
Relaxing in the park, we sat in astonishment as we witnessed our three-pound puppy consume an entire one-pound simulated sausage, and proceed to go for the wrapper, licking her chops in pure bliss.
Before our little foodie turned one, we were met head-on with what happens when you mix a passion for food and scholarly brains in one dog. It started when my husband went to the local donut shop one Sunday afternoon to pick up a dozen of Canada’s favourite calorie splurges. We each had one and saved the rest for later.
I woke up the next morning with images of donuts dancing in my head. I was craving the chocolate goodness only to be sorely disappointed as I opened the closed donut box on the counter. All that was left in the box was a single chocolate fondant smudge.
I figured that my husband had eaten every single donut before I woke up. That was weird because my husband does not have a sweet tooth, so I figured ten donuts was an oddly huge and sweet breakfast. I did not want to say anything and sound like a nagging wife. But I really wanted to get my donut fix, so I grumbled all the way back to the donut shop to pick up some replacements.
As I brought my new chocolate-covered prizes home, my husband greeted me at the door to pick out a donut of his own. How much food could he eat? I opened the bakery box for him and through clenched teeth said, “Just one donut for you!” My husband rolled his eyes and replied, “You should talk!”
After a little discussion we realized we both thought that the other had eaten the donuts in question, but we both swore up and down that we were not the culprits. Well this was quite the strange predicament. What happened to the donuts?
Right around this time we noticed that our tiny little dog was unusually quiet and sitting nervously in her kennel. As we crouched down and looked into Martini’s castle, we noticed that she seemed to be sitting oddly on a large bulge in her blanket. Upon further inspection we found eight and a half of the missing ten donuts, hidden, mashed and smashed into the blanket. Martini’s eyes darted from side to side, silently denying any involvement. There was cream filling and little fondant puppy footprints all over the floor within her kennel, but not a drop, crumb or morsel on the outside where we would have easily noticed.
Somehow my brilliant puppy had found a way to get ten donuts out of a closed container on the counter — with no steps of any sort to help her — transport them one by one into her kennel, and close the donut box to hide her tracks. She got us to blame each other, and her devious plan almost worked. I can imagine her doing this while we were sleeping, complete with suction cups on her little paws, a cape fashioned out of socks and a super-hero mask to conceal her identity.
I still am not sure how she managed this feat. My university degrees and street knowledge don’t seem to equal my dog’s innate brainpower. Martini is a constant reminder that even if our goals seem lofty and out of reach, with a little determination and cleverness that donut can be ours!
Комментариев нет:
Отправить комментарий