Rocco--My Main Squeeze

Truly, I am not a violent person, but my peaceful resolve is being tested on an almost daily basis.--by one of my DOGS.

Sometimes I really think that I could just wrap my fingers around Rocco's skinny little Italian Greyhound neck and squeeze . . . tighter . . . and TIGHTER . . . and TIGHTER. Lately I have been picturing doing this and the feeling I get is of great . . . satisfaction. I know, I know. How dreadful! But it is true.

See, I am having this problem with him. It is commonly known as counter-surfing. You know, when a dog stands on his hind legs and "walks" the entire length of your kitchen counters, sniffing and oogling at whatever remotely edible thing that might be there and within reach of his snout.

My biggest issue is with him stealing the wet paper towels that I use to clean up James after every meal. I have a tendency to just leave the paper towel on James' plate, and clean it up later. You know, the whole BUSY MOM thing. Well--I need to change from BUSY MOM to DEPLOYING EVASIVE COUNTER MEASURES MOM.

Case in point. I am working on a catalog layout this morning. James is playing at his train table (I know, you are just shocked.) All of a sudden I hear licking under my desk. Chris will tell you that for some reason, the sounds of a dog licking drives me slightly insane. I push my chair away from my desk, lean violently under it to see what is going on, and what do I see??????

THIS:

What the HECK is it???

Any thoughts? Now I am looking at it over my shoulder as I am chasing Rocco and Gino out of the room, arms flailing madly as I scream and yell "You %$@!*%! get OUTSIDE NOW!!!"

I return to the scene of the crime and bend down to take a closer look.

To really appreciate it in it's full-on disgusting-ness, you should click on the photo so that you can see it, close-up, needle-thin teeth marks penetrating it's soft mass.

Ok--is the suspense killing you? It is a stick of BUTTER.

Yeah. I know. GROSS.

I go into the kitchen and find the butter dish on one side of the kitchen and the top to it on the other side. There had been TWO 1/4 sticks of butter in the dish, which had been covered and in the MIDDLE of the kitchen island. Of course one of those sticks is under my desk (OK DUMMY--if you are going to steal the food, don't bring it into my office where I can see it) and the other stick is no where to be found. No doubt it was INHALED by the thief immediately.

And as I am cleaning up the mess, I am thinking two things. The first is . . ."God, and butter is so damn expensive!!!!" and the other is "Ahhhhh . . . squeezing . . . . tighter, and TIGHTER and TIGHTER!"