In the End, I Blame It on the Pork Roast

Pippet, Pippet, Pippet.  What will we do with you?  And who should be going to obedience school?  You?  Me?  Both of us?

Last night I had to leave the house to pick up our daughter from a party while Jay and our son were eating dinner.  No big deal.  Seems once the warmer weather arrives, family dinners eaten together in our house can be scarce.  I keep telling myself it'll all come together and we'll gel as a family unit once again over the summer.  Heh, heh.  Dream on, honey.

Anyway, it seems that once I left the house, all hell broke loose.  I left a big hunk of pork tenderloin on the kitchen counter, and that must have been too damned tempting for Pippet to contain herself.  Apparently she got the thing off the counter and was running around the house with it in her mouth, not able to stop and eat it because it was too big to fit down her gullet in one swallow.  Jay, who had just gotten home from work and was probably "not quite yet"  relaxed from his commute,  had to chase the canine and her porky spoils down.  Half of me wishes I was here to see all of the hullabaloo, but the other half knows I would have been the one doing the chasing if I was here, so it wouldn't have been nearly as fun as just imagining it in the aftermath.

When we walked in the door, the first thing Jay proclaimed in his best curmudgeonly voice was, "Pippet got the roast and was running all over the place with it."  My first reaction was to smile and look at Pippet (who was standing in front of me, submitting the freaking cutest face a dog could muster) and to say in my sappiest, wubba-wubba voice, "Ooooh noooo, zhou stowe za woast!?"  To which I got chastised by Jay, being told that I should not be letting her think what she did was OK.  Personally, I don't think the whole stealing-of-pork was remembered by the Pipster at that point.  She was probably thinking more about what she could get a good sniff of the next time somebody opened the fridge.

Later, when I was loading the dishwasher, Pippet was back to her old antics.  She loves to find all that good bounty in the dishwasher.  As you can see, this stems way back to her puppy days (excuse the heinously messy kitchen you're about to feast your eyes upon):

Puppy habits die hard.  Especially when you're a bottomless pit.

And with Pippet up to her old antics last night, so was I, as her "Photographer and Thus Abettor and Enabler of Bad Behavior."  I'm more than sure that if Jay had seen me taking pictures of these goings-on rather than removing the delinquent beastie from the scene of the crime (see evidence below),

I would have gotten Jay's Lecture #36785, sec. B:  The Importance of Training Your Dog, as well as have had this handed to me (or chucked in my general direction):

 Which, I'll admit it, might--just might--be some good reading for me.