Less Than Zero

When I get home there's usually a bit of chaos. The dog roos and jumps and brings me toys, the cats knock things off the table and meow and all I really want to do is put my shit down and breathe. Today the dog was especially springy. He forgot to bring a toy and he kept flinging himself at me, bouncing off, and coming back for another try. It was hard to ignore so it took me a while to really look at the apartment. A comforter that had been tucked on the back of the couch was on the floor, blankets that had been in the crate were out of the crate, the dog was still using me as a backboard. I read the dog walker's note and she said he'd taken a huge dump. This is, shall we say, uncharacteristic.

As I righted things I noticed a small paper shopping bag on the floor, the kind one gets Scooter Snacks in. I looked inside and it still had nine snacks in it. When I left this morning it was on the table. I'd already given him a couple and the bag usually comes with 15 in it. So he'd eaten 1 or maybe two. Hilarious, a bounty of deliciousness and my dog takes a decadent double serving and walks away. I should ask him for lessons. He's better than Weight Watchers. Bobby and Bu scoff at him, hell the cats do, too, they use him to open bags of thing they want to eat.

Then I noticed him on his bed. He had guilty eyes and was protecting something under his chin. It was a Scooter Snack. So, by my calculations he got down a whole bag of snacks, he ate one and he took another one out for, what? The thrill of it? Didn't eat it, though, that would have been too much.

This is why he's microchipped, has an ID tag, and wears a collar with my phone number on it. What are the chances this dog would last a day on the streets if he got lost?

Less than zero. At best.