Wanted: An Accomplice

While there can be no doubt that I am an accomplished and generally self-sufficient pup, I am also not so proud that I can't admit that I occasionally need a little human assistance.  I mean, without a working thumb or at least tug rope, I'll never be able to open the refrigerator door on my own and, despite being exceptionally tall, I'll never be able to drive myself to the doggy toy store because my feet simply can't reach the pedals.  But never, until recently, have I ever had to rely on someone for help with my favorite activity of all time:  thievery.

It happened yesterday evening.  Pa, Ma, and Sister were watching TV and completely ignoring my barks and whines for my nightly PB&K (peanut butter and Kong).  Disappointed, but by no means disheartened, I decided that if they weren't going to give me what I wanted (which would keep me occupied and out of their hair for twenty minutes so technically a win win for all involved), I would seek out other forms of entertainment. 

My quest led me to the back room (a former "Land of No" and current home to the hamster horde).  There, I discovered what I was looking for, but there was a problem.  And when there is a problem, there is only one effective solution.

Seconds later, out in the living room, my family were becoming highly distracted by the incessant barking.  I was so loud, two rooms away, that I was completely drowning out the volume on the television.  After attempting to ignore me for a minute or so, Ma couldn't take it any longer; she jumped up and hurried toward the back room to figure out what the problem was.

She found me half in the back room and half out of it, obviously concerned by some threat unknown to her.  Oh, and I was still barking hysterically (probably not a surprise).  As she approached me, she asked what was wrong, but I didn't respond until she stepped past me and into the room.  It was then that I stopped barking and scuttled into the room after her.

Once inside, I made a beeline toward the corner of the room, bypassed a scary bag of hamster bedding, and grabbed my prize:  one of Sister's shoes.  I then made a mad dash for the door.

Sadly, Ma, the person I needed to provide me with the encouragement to enter the room (okay, let's not mince words here...I needed her to go in first just in case that scary bag of hamster bedding was apt to attack someone), was also the very same person who took my ill-gotten gains away from me.  And what's worse, she laughed at me for needing to use her as a potential sacrifice to my thievery.

Needless to say, I was hurt by this laughter.  I managed, however, to get over it quickly, as soon as Ma said to come along with her--that she was going to get me a PB&K.