In the Doghouse

Chompyface is in the doghouse today and he doesn’t even seem to realize it because he just keeps looking at me and wagging his tail. His tail wagging tricks and soft half floppy ears won’t get me this time though.

Last night he was up to no good. When we first got him he couldn’t be trusted around food at all. Anything out in the open seemed like fair game to him, but we’d since trained him out of the habit of trying to eat our food or at least I thought we’d trained him out of it.

Last night’s dinner was suppose to be a delicious combination of salmon cakes with chipole mayonnaise, black beans and rice, and lemony roasted broccoli. I’d broken up the salmon in a bowl on the kitchen counter then left the room to look up a mayonnaise recipe on my computer. I’m sure you can guess what happened next. That’s right, somebody whose name I won’t mention, but he is white and brindle and walks on four legs, decided to jump up on the counter and help himself to the salmon.

I didn’t catch him, my husband did. “What happened?” I asked.

“He was licking the salmon,” he said.

“Are you sure because I thought he didn’t do stuff like that anymore?” I said.

“I’m sure.”

“What should I do? Should I make it anyway? I’m sure cooking it will kill the germs.”

My husband scowled at me. “I’m not eating that after his tongues been all over it.”

“But it was going to be so good.” I picked up the bowl. “Should I give it to him. It’s perfectly good salmon.”

“You can’t reward him for jumping on the counter. Throw it away.”

… and so I threw away the salmon. That was such a waste that it made my heart ache. It made my taste buds ache too because I was looking forward to those salmon cakes.