Counter-surfing canine criminals

We had a very quiet Easter weekend. I spent most of it, it seems, in front of the computer studying for another Spanish language exam Sunday. I didn't get much else done other than my breaks in the garden. I didn't even go on a hike.

Kevin did his usual Sunday activity: he cooked all day, making meals to last him the rest of the work week. Kevin's a good cook. He made his chicken burrito mix, his famous meatless lasagna ("It could use some spinach!" said I) and all the fixings. With that were also eight Italian sausages, tasty and spicy sausages that go well alone or in a marinara sauce. He usually has three dogs watching him nearby hoping for treats to fall from heaven.

We probably should break the dogs of that habit.

He took a break from cooking to check on his laundry (yes, he does that himself, too). The Italian sausages were cooling off on the stove top. All eight of them.

He couldn't have been gone from his duty position for long, though. While I was going over the Spanish Present Perfect in my little office he came back to the kitchen with one loud expletive. All three dogs simultanously bolted from the kitchen area, with Sadie and Sammy up front with the more guilty looks; Sara wasn't too far behind wobbling fast to keep in step with the other two.

One of them had reached up to the stove top to get to those tasty Italian sausages. All eight of them were gone. All that remained were two soggy paper plates that were now lying on the kitchen floor. There was no other evidence left at the crime scene.

"OUT! ALL OF YOU, OUT!" said Kevin in his command voice. The dogs remained outside for the rest of the day. Later on that afternoon I completed my daily powerwalk by myself, the first time I had done that since early 2005.

None of the dogs dared to bark the rest of the day. They knew they were on Kevin's shitlist. They didn't even come near the back porch window, nor did they dare show themselves until way past sun down when I was alone in my office going over Spanish Past Particles and Kevin was long asleep in bed.

At midnight they finally were allowed back inside, but quickly scammered to the bedroom where "Dad" was because they knew that I'm the more strict of the two. Seriously. When I yell "SCOOT!", even the stray cats outside run away. The dogs weren't a bother the rest of the night, and this morning Sadie didn't even whimper and moan for her 4am food. She still walks around with her ears against her head and her tail between her legs.

All is forgiven now, but for the rest of the week none of the dogs will get any of their beloved chicken jerky strips. That I promised Kevin.