February 25, 2019

White Dog excluded herself from the list of potential culprits. "Not only was I sleeping next to you all afternoon, momma, but you KNOW I do not like either coffee or tissues."

When I went into the office to work mid morning I left half of my cup of coffee and cream sitting on the little cart next to the momma chair. The cart also holds a box of Kleenex, the grooming brush, my locked medicine box, and my pen in a metal case. SOME pup with darker white furs and blue eyes taught me long ago to secure the vulnerable things. ANOTHER pup, smaller with white furs and a gem name, is a coffee fiend who is capable of the most amazing agility in order to feed her habit. Then there are Zso and Roman, both known to investigate the cart and to nap on the momma chair.

When I returned to the living room this afternoon things were different. The coffee had been just about finished, thankfully without spillage or a broken mug. Tissues, or bits of them, formed a garland from the box to a small pool of paper on the floor. The handle of the brush bore new tooth marks. Fortunately my meds case and my pen in its tin had been nosed but were unharmed. Oh, and the pillows on the momma chair had been rearranged to accommodate an easy stretch from the chair to the cart.

I held the treat bag in my arms. "So WHO got a little crazy here," I asked the assembled White Dog Army. I did not really expect a confession but I did enjoy the collection of angelic looks and momma kisses meant as protests of innocence.