Bopf.

You know, beagles are ridiculous animals. Gus can go months and months being a perfectly pleasant pet, and then BAM! He reminds you that he's still capable of all kinds of debauchery. You'd think that the M&M's would have been enough, but he waits until things get hectic before starting his shenanigans.

It all begins with insurance. We've always been really happy with our insurance. I've never paid more than a $20 copay for a doctor's visit or a prescription. Then all of a sudden, I go to pick up Piglet's Prevacid and lo and behold it suddenly costs $63! This does not rest easily on my frugal ears. This is my CVS. My CVS in which I am not accustomed to paying for things. Grumble, mutter, growl.

Fast forward half an hour. Piglet and I arrive home. There is a large foil packet in the middle of the family room floor. This is not typically where we store foil. Said foil is bare of all crumbs. It is also missing three large biscuits. The dog is lolling about on the couch, belly up, looking quite meaty and full. Why the big mystery, you ask? That packet of biscuits had been on my kitchen counter, specifically on my island in the middle of the kitchen. I looked at Gus. I eyed the counter. I gazed thoughtfully at Piglet, my eyes question marks. "BOPF?" he said helpfully. No, no. No one has bopfed, but something peculiar has definitely transpired.

After some investigation, the only conclusion I can draw is that Gus has learned how to jump from the kitchen floor, the proper domain for a beagle, catlike onto Piglet's IKEA play table, and then leap onto the counter, where he mowed through the contents of the island. Guess what else was missing? Piglet's last Prevacid tablet. I wonder if Gus knows those now cost three dollars a piece or if he was having a little indigestion from consuming three large biscuits. Perhaps he did bopf. We may never know.

What am I going to do with this dog?