I was in the kitchen, chopping veggies. I saw Denny from the corner of my eyes, lying there, waiting for some veggies to fall off the counter, as usual.
All was quiet, the White ones were downstairs, sleeping, not doing anything bad for sure, when it suddenly hit me!
Wait, that's not Denny!

Where the heck was Denny? Never a good sign, you can't let him out of your sight (still, maybe once he's 8 years old?).
Well, I found him in the dog bed in my studio, chewing a dish towel. No photographic evidence for that one. I asked him to join me in the kitchen, for real this time.

Anybody could have made that mistake, right? Meanwhile, Happy has come upstairs to check on things. I threw Denny a veggie, to keep him from getting bad ideas.

Celery? Are you kidding me?

That's not one of his favorite treats, that's for sure.
♥ ♥ ♥
edited: I forgot to say, and this is quite important to the story, that it was Denny who dragged the stuffed dog downstairs, from Maggie's room into the kitchen. Did he do that on purpose, to fool me? Placing a decoy, so he could slink off, to do bad stuff, with me off his back? ;o)





















































