She's cute, very cute, there's no argument about that. She's spunky and delightful. But she's also a sly girl and I have to keep my eye on her all the time. She's not a bad dog, she doesn't poop or pee in the house, that kind of stuff. However, and this is a BIG however, she is very much an opportunist. She's a Labrador, after all. And if I make spaghetti and sit down at the table for dinner, she's going to take a stroll through the kitchen to see if I might have left anything behind. Behind, meaning anywhere on the counter where she can get hold of it. And if I notice that she's not in the living room and glance up to make sure that the pantry door is shut and seeing that it is, think everything is okay, and in another minute still take notice she's not in the living room and don't act on it, well, then I just might find that I've given her enough time to completely consume the $15.00 wedge of Parmesan Cheese that I bought to shave on salads or pasta, which, since it was only purchased yesterday, was one heck of a lot of cheese. Was. When I stood up from the table, I knew.
After that licking her chops business, she started her guilt routine. Pleading with her eyes, offering me her I'm so sorry, I couldn't help myself face, her ears flat back and the blinking. It's the blinking that slays me, as if it's absoultely going to kill her this very minute if I don't stop saying Bad dog. I tell you, when she does this, it's real hard not to laugh.