Busted

We're there in the kitchen, the two of us. I empty the wax paper tube of the last few Ritz crackers, toss it in the trash can, and open a fresh one. I take a few crackers out, twist the top closed and drop it into a big bowl on the counter. I carry the plate of cheese and crackers into my office and sit down at the computer. Time passes.

You know how when you have children and they get into stuff and suddenly you realize you haven't heard them in a while? That's what happened. When I snapped to attention I heard a licking sound. The sound of paper, wax paper, scooting across old linoleum. I stepped around the corner and there stood Stella in the middle of the kitchen floor, head down, caught in the act. All I thought of was the new pack of crackers. So instead of thinking that she'd lifted the old paper out of the can (which is what happened), in my head - she'd just finished an entire pack of new crackers. The look on my face apparently conveyed this thought rather well. I say that because the second our eyes met - Stella tore out of the room past me, ran into her crate and laid down.

Fifteen minutes later, I said "Alright Stella, you've suffered enough," and she stood up and walked out.

What does your dog do when it knows it's done something bad?

Reminder: One last chance to win the final calendar; leave us a comment in that post that's linked on in the sidebar there. The drawing is tomorrow night!