I was given two bags of vanilla fudge at Christmas, decided to indulge and ate almost a whole bag. Sense stepped in and I left a few pieces for later. Took Kizzie out for her walk. Was surprised to find empty fudge packet on the floor when I got back. I picked it up and asked “who ate this’? Murphy ran and hid in his bed! Guilty. Further proof, if needed, was the aroma of vanilla wafting off him.
Next day we treated ourselves to a takeaway. Sat enjoying my chips when we heard a rather loud crunching noise coming from the kitchen. We looked at each other. I got up and ran into said kitchen. Kizzie was standing at the counter wolfing down prawn crackers! Guilty.
To be honest, I blame myself for both incidents, I know better than to leave anything vaguely edible where they might be able to reach it.
Ben, C’s ancient greyhound has decided he no longer needs to wear a collar. He pulled his off and stamped on it!
Who exactly is in charge round here?