While Danielle has been doing overnight petsitting for about a week now, she’s been stopping home after work to pick up new clothes and eat dinner with me. Danielle made stirfry, and I did a ritualistic dance as I waited for the oven to preheat for some orange, creamy, Pillsbury rolls.
Our kitchen is hard-pressed for counter space at the moment, so I pulled out a chair and used it to put the baking pan of rolls on.
After finishing dinner, we were looking around at some crap on the computer while Dirty got up to make her rounds of the kitchen for anything we might have dropped. The moment I saw her walk towards the kitchen it dawned on me that while the rolls weren’t on the floor, Dirty’s depth-perception works in her favour. I quickly yelled at her to come back as I ran in there to grab her. It was too late.
From the moment she went into the kitchen to the moment I saw the empty baking sheet was, quite literally, no longer than 5 seconds. She absorbed 8 uncooked rolls in less that 5 seconds and even had time to back away from the sheet like nothing happened, as if to say “Hey dad, someone took all the rolls!”
I dragged her to the bedroom and shut her in while a batch of non-orange, cinnamon rolls baked. When they finished, I knocked over a nearly-empty bag of chips, while putting icing on them. I told Dirty to come into the kitchen, which she was very nervous about. I showed her the chips, and the moment she thought I might actually be giving them to her I growled and tugged her away. She cowered and ran back to her bed, completely forgetting the chips. While that probably doesn’t actually teach her a lesson, it made me feel much better.
She was bad and I’m sure those 8 rolls were more than filling enough, so I didn’t feed her dinner. In rather pathetic display of desperation, however, she did manage to lick a piece of who-knows-how-old kibble up from between a crack in the floor. Ew.