Point-Counterpoint: Pigs vs. Gus

I get to start because I'm the human. This outrage is going to get hashed out here, in public, on the internet, so that we have witnesses. It is also an exercise to keep me from giving the dog away or maiming him in some unspeakable manner.

Yesterday was my birthday. I was sick. Piglet was sick. I had to go to the grocery store because there was no food in the house. I ran over my toe with the grocery cart wheel. Piglet blew out his diaper in the doctor's office. It was that kind of day. Happy birthday to me.

Gus the Beagle here. I just want to say that I had no idea it was mom's birthday. If I had known that, I might have thought a few seconds longer about my transgressions. Just wanted to put that out there.

SO. While I was at the grocery store, I picked up some of my very favorite grocery store sushi. Nine little Philly roll bites just for me in their tidy little package with a little dollop of wasabi and a few bites of ginger. It was my little ray of birthday sunshine. I had a tennis match that night, so I didn't want a heavy dinner, but everyone needs a little something special on their birthday, right?

Again....I had no clue it was mom's birthday. How's a dog to know these things? Let's stop playing the birthday card and get over that already! Enough about rays of sunshine.

That afternoon, I went to have coffee with a friend. I was chatting on the sidewalk, sipping my tasty treat when my phone rang. It was Mr. Pigs. He alerted me that he had just arrived home and something was awry. Askew. Not good.

It turns out that SOMEONE had managed to open the refrigerator. And SOMEONE took their little hound nose and snatched my nine perfect little pieces of fishy goodness and absconded with them. Then someone ATE all nine pieces of my birthday sushi! My five dollars worth of tasty grocery store grade sushi.

Now let's hold up just a cotton-pickin' minute here. That refrigerator was left cracked open. What kind of dog do you think I am? I wouldn't open a refrigerator uninvited and all. And there was no snatching. There was a delicate removal process and some casual scampering, but let's cool it with the snatching and the absconding. You make me sound like a common thief.

[Ignoring Gus entirely] That dog robbed me of my birthday treat that would have been the highlight of my day. My mouth had been watering for that sushi all day long. I even considered having some for lunch and decided to save it all for dinner. He inhaled it every bit without a bit of remorse.

WHOA. There you go tellin' whoppers again. I did no such thing. You claim I "inhaled it every bit." I'll have you know that there was a blob of green stuff in there that wasn't even fit for beagle consumption. I got a little taste of that on my tongue and WHOA NELLY! Whooooo! 'Bout shot me through the roof! Hot stuff, mama. I'll have you know I left that behind, thankyouverymuch.

That would explain the green streaks all over the hardwood floors where Gus dragged his tongue around trying to rid himself of the wicked wasabi. You'd think that would have slowed him down, but no. Mr. Pigs then asked me, "How many sticks of butter were in that box?" I told him I thought there were two. He informed me that Gus had also defiled two sticks of butter as a part of his feasting free for all.

Look here. There was something bad wrong with my tongue. Somebody left that foul green blob in that fish box as a trap. It was something to keep people from stealing fish I think. Lucky for me I'm too smart for that, but I tell you what.....my tongue was on fire. Little bit of that butter did the trick. It was cool.....soothing....nice. [Drools in memory of event]

Well. You'd think that would have been enough, but later that night I sat typing away in the office when I heard some suspicious scratching sounds coming from the baby monitor. Piglet was in the family room, so I dashed for the nursery, afraid of the destruction I might find. Upon arrival, I saw nothing. Heard scratching, saw nothing. Further investigation led me to Gus, under the crib. It was very low to the ground, I had no idea how he even got under there.

I got mad army crawl skillz.

I called him out. Ordered him to show his face. Wondered nervously what might be in there with him. He dashed left, dashed right, and realized he was cornered. At last, he slunk out. Slunk out from beneath the crib with a stick of -very melted - butter clenched stubbornly between his teeth. The dog had stashed butter under the baby's bed.

Hey, waste not, want not. I was some kind of full after all that fish and those first two sticks of butter. It's not like you like the stuff - I've never even seen you eat a stick of butter! Why not give it to the dog.....the dog who APPRECIATES good butter?

Have you ever tried to pry a melted stick of butter from a beagle's clenched jaws over carpet? It's not an easy task, I promise you. It's been a while since Gus has had an incident and I should have known that it was coming. It was only a matter of time.

So, ladies and gentlemen of the jury....how do you vote? I would like to point out that I ate peanut butter crackers for my birthday dinner and subsequently got creamed at my tennis match. On my birthday. Did I mention it was my birthday? Just checking.