The Best Shoes in the World

Allow me to introduce you to the world’s best pair of shoes. 

They belong to Ma and they are truly a wonder.  Not only is there a nice metal button to chew on and attempt to gnaw off when the opportunity presents itself, but there is also a Velcro strap and there’s nothing in this world better than the sound of two pieces of Velcro being ripped apart (it sounds so much like the noise my toys make when I start ripping their seams apart). 

And how did I discover this masterpiece of modern footwear? 

Well, I was hanging underneath the table last week during dinner, minding my own business, while trying to decide what trouble I should get into first—find and rip up a toy or steal Ma’s napkin from her lap.  Unable to make up my mind (so many great options), I decided to lay down for a bit which put me snout to toe with Ma’s foot.  I gave the shoe she was wearing a good sniff (I’m always interested to see where people have been) and was just about to grab hold of a nearby toy when I happened to notice that there was a little leather tab sticking out from the side of the shoe.  Nonchalantly, I reached over and began chewing on the tab with my front teeth, careful not to draw attention to myself lest I be yelled at.  While contently chewing, I suddenly realized that there was a bit more give to this leather tab than was normal.  Immediately, I knew what I had.  Grasping the tab firmly in my teeth, I gave it a good tug and was rewarded with a loud rip as the two adjoining strips of Velcro pulled apart.  Ah, I thought, music to my ears!  I dropped the tab from my mouth, which allowed for the Velcro to reconnect, then grabbed hold of it again and gave it another tug.  I was once again rewarded with a satisfying ripping sound. 

I repeated this twice more before Ma realized what was going on, gave a shriek, then removed her shoe from my reach.  Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

Rigby the Thief (AKA Parker)

There’s a story that my family often tells about of my predecessor, a Golden Retriever named Tikka.

Tikka

One morning, while watching Ma make herself a bowl of cereal, Tikka had a sneaky and delicious idea.  As soon as Ma was distracted by her breakfast and newspaper, Tikka hotfooted it into the bathroom where she proceeded to cause a scene by unrolling and shredding the toilet paper.  She knew, however, that in order for her plan to work, she had to get caught, so she made sure to bang her tail (which was always giving her away) extra hard against the bathtub.  As anticipated, at the sound of the echoing bang, bang, bang of a tail hitting the tub, Ma got up and made her way into the bathroom to investigate.  As soon as Ma was in the bathroom and on hands and knees to clean up the mess, Tikka backed out of the room, ran down the hallway, cut through the living room, and entered the dining room where Ma’s half eaten bowl of cereal was waiting unprotected.  Rising up on her hind legs and putting her front paws on the table, Tikka helped herself to the mushy meal.  When Ma returned to her breakfast and found Tikka eating it, she was hopping mad.  Shooing her away, Ma grabbed her bowl, threw it in the sink, and made herself a new one.

Tikka (left) and Bobo

The next morning, feeling peckish and having developed a taste for cereal, Tikka decided to try her paw again at stealing herself a bowl.  Once Ma was seated, Tikka hurried into the bathroom and started unraveling the toilet paper while enthusiastically banging her tail on the tub.  Right on schedule, Ma showed up to investigate, at which point Tikka ran out of the bathroom, through the house, and into the dining room where she helped herself to Ma’s breakfast.  Moments later, Ma returned, shooed Tikka away, threw out the slobbery remains, and made herself a new bowl.

Tikka Speaking

Tikka and Ma did this song and dance every day for five days.

On the sixth day, after shooing Tikka away from her bowl, Ma decided not to bother making herself a new breakfast.  Instead, she just sat down and ate what Tikka left behind, slobber and all.  The game no longer fun, Tikka never again stole Ma’s breakfast.

Now, I never had the pleasure of meeting Tikka, but I must admit that I admire her spunk.  I’ve never been much of a toilet paper dog, but her system was ingenious.

Like Tikka, I am a thief...a skilled and persistent thief.  And while Tikka’s endgame was a bowl of cereal with an assist by toilet paper, my prize is napkins.

During meals, I case the table from below looking for an opportunity to steal napkins, or more specifically, steal Ma’s napkin.  She can change seats and she can be consciously aware of where her napkin is in relation to my snapping jaws, but I’m always there and ready to pounce as soon as the moment presents itself.

And I have numerous techniques.  Here are just a few: 

• The Stroll By:  While sauntering by nonchalantly (extra points if you can make it look like you’re interested in something else), reach over and grab the napkin.
• The Shark:  From the depths of nowhere, suddenly breech the surface and grab the napkin (extra points if bystanders can hear the snap of your jaws). 
• The Distraction:  Grab a toy and lay on the floor under the table.  Make it look like you’re planning on plucking the toy.  After being warned not to pluck, drop the toy, stretch your neck, and grab, from your prone position, the napkin using your front teeth. 
• The Sleepwalker:  Pretend to be sleeping then, when no one is suspecting, crane your neck up and swipe the napkin without ever getting up. 
• The Sideways Monkey-Eye Snatch:  Scoot up alongside the chair, turn your head sideways so that those above only see the whites of your eye (monkey eye), and start snapping, sideways and parallel to the person’s lap, until you make contact with the napkin. 

Sometimes Ma is on her game and able to quickly snatch the napkin from my snapping white jaws of death.  More times than not, however, I’m faster than her and we quickly enter a phase where I frantically shred the napkin while Ma drops to the floor, crawls under the table, and tries to pry bits of saturated paper from my drooly jowls.  And oh boy is she annoyed while she picks bits of napkin from my mouth—muttering under her breath the whole time.  And listening to Pa and Sister above snickering adds to the fun of the entire situation.