... that two more made it to his naughty list.
First lets look at the criminal.
"What exatly do you want me to say about this Mom?"
A bold move so close to Christmas. Even for a Siberian.
As a yogi I believe that the universe sends us people and living things into our lives to reinforce our personal beliefs or teach us something. When we were ready to rescue another dog, I refused to rescue a full German Shepherd, as much as I love the breed. I knew very little about dogs or GSDs but I believed is that GSDs were prone to hip dysplasia. And I did not want a dog with hip dysplasia. So we ended up with Loki, a GSD mix. Later the universe laughed at me, "Ha! You think getting a Siberian will keep you from facing your fears of hip dysplasia? Here is Lovely Juno! She is here to teach you." O.K. I get that.
But I ask you Internet, just what is the universe trying to teach me with a dog that has masticatory addictions? Perhaps that one of us needs a 12-step program?
"Mom, this is just a gentle reminder to Pop not to leave us for so long again."
Mr. Wild Dingo had been gone all week and stuck twice in airport delays due to snow. I had to take him to work this morning and this is what I came home to. All of Mr. Wild Dingo's notebooks and mail, masticated.
"Santa is gonna hear about this? Are you serious? But you can't prove I did it! I mean, you didn't even catch me red-pawed."
"How about if I show him my better side of my pretty face?"
"What are you lookin' so smug over there for Big Boy? It's not like you're perfect."
She's right about Loki...For example, we ran into one of Frosty's cousins in Morges yesterday.
We didn't catch his name but Loki something to say.
Perhaps this offense wouldn't be so bad to dear old St. Nick, because you know, everyone knows that Frosty is a pansy anyway.
But then, while we were walking home, we ran into dear old Père Noël. And as we passed him, Loki gave him a polite sniff and we passed in peace. Then we turned around to say goodbye and this is what Loki did:
"Woof! Woof! Woof!"
He decided Père Noël looked suspicious and wanted him to know that he was watching him. Like Père Noël was the bad guy. Sigh.
But back to Juno. We had a hectic weekend. Mr. Wild Dingo lost all of it waiting at the airport in the Philippines and in Amsterdam and I spent it mopping up not one but two floods in the basement due to a burst pipe. It's not important how that happened but suffice it to say our weekend of going to Montreaux to see the famous Christmas market was killed. And this morning while busily putting the house back together and trying to get on the bike for a quick workout, I inadvertently took out a Buon Viando sausage and put it on the stairs to bring up to the kitchen. Only I forgot to bring it up and went ahead with my work out. After the bike, I headed up to the yoga room and then I remembered the sausage. But it wasn't on the stairs anymore.
Here's what a Buon Viando meat sausage looks like when it's properly defrosting on my kitchen counter.
And here's what a Buon Viando Sausage looks like when Siberian takes it from the stairs where I accidentally left it, opens it and eats 3/4 of it frozen, including half the plastic packaging, in the living room.
That's two strikes against both dogs on the week of Christmas. It doesn't bode well for them does it? The sad thing about this is we have no fireplace to use up all the coal that they will surely get in their stockings.