Why do I do these things?

I'm in deep do-do.  Again.  Only this time it was Dad's stuff.  And he gets really upset with me.  It was like this.

Mom and Dad have this shelf in the Big Room.  That's the room near the front door that didn't have any furniture in it for three years, 'cuz Mom didn't know what to do with it.  But it has a four foot wall along the hallway, and we put all our walking stuff in little baskets on the wall.  There is a basket full of hats and visors to keep the sun off of Mom and Dad.  Mom says I don't need a hat.  I don't have any skin that shows.  But I might like a hat, you know.  Maybe she'll let me try one on one day.

Another basket has all my toys, like my frizbee and my chuckit, and my balls, and a third has my leashes.  So when we go for a walk, we just grab stuff from the baskets, and when we get back we just put everything back.  It makes Mom happy.

But sometimes other things sit on the wall.  Like golf gloves.  And sunglass cases.  And one day last week, when Mom was in Connecticut with my Grandma, and Dad was at the golf course, I spied really cool golf gloves.  There were two of them and they were black and kinda heavy.  Not like the gloves I've eaten before.   And there they were.  Right at nose level.

What could I do?  The gloves were calling me.  So I grabbed one.



 

I took it to the back room and pretty soon, I'd swallowed half the glove.  What had I done?  I wasn't feeling very well by then and I heard Dad coming home in the garage.  I pretended nothing had happened and met him at the door.  We went out for a walk, but I got sick a couple of times.  That might have clued Dad in, 'cuz when we got back, he started checking around at my usual crime locations, and he found what was left of the glove.  I could tell he didn't know what it was, though, 'cuz he didn't yell at me.  Maybe I would get away with it this time.

Then Mom came home and Dad told her what happened.  She took one look at the remains and she knew right away.  "It's one of your favorite winter gloves," she told him. Uh,oh.  She doesn't usually tell on me.  Now I was in deep do-do.  Dad got very angry and wouldn't talk to me for awhile.  But then he and Mom went out to get something to eat. 

You'd think I would be good at that point and not get into any more trouble.  But noooo..., I just didn't learn.  There on that fun shelf was Dad's sunglasses case and it was open with his sunglasses in it.  I couldn't help myself.  I took them off the wall and into the back bedroom, where I proceeded to chomp on the case AND the glasses.  Till they got home.  And this is what they found. 

 I probably shouldn't have chewed on the left ear piece.






If I thought Dad was mad before!!??  He was on the couch and I tried to get up there with him to tell him I was sorry.  But he just got up and walked away.

 

Mom said she was going to handle it.  (Handle what?  What's she going to do?  Should I be scared?)  I guess I would have to wait. 

 

And soon I began to see some weird things.  I found a pencil that I had chewed up sitting on the fireplace hearth.  Real easy to get.  But when I tried to take it, I tasted that nasty Apple Sour stuff that she used to put on the pillows until I learned not to eat the pillows.  Then I saw a kleenex on Dad's bedside table and when I grabbed it, I had to spit it out, 'cuz it tasted like that apple sour stuff.  Someone even left a sock on the wall, but I didn't try to get that 'cuz I could smell that apple sour stuff from 10 feet away. 

 

She's mined my home.  Every where I go there's that Apple Sour stuff.  What will I do?  My life is over.  I'm sorry Dad.  I promise I will never eat something that belongs to you again.  Only just don't let Mom put Apple Sour stuff on everything!

 

I'm going to be three next April.  Do you think I'll be better when I turn three?

 

If things get really bad, can I come live with one of you?

 

G