She’s long been prone to taking things out to the back yard, for reasons I have yet to determine. She has a liking for plastic food containers, disirregardless of whether or not they actually contain food. She has also made it clear that I am not to have any spatulas with smooth flipping surfaces unmarred by teeth marks. Fine. I can live with that.
Saturday morning, however, I was getting ready to start my day by cooking up some tasty spuds to eat whilst having my ass handed to me by the daily crossword puzzle. I had gone grocery shopping the day prior, and had purchased a 5 lb (2.27 kg) bag of Idaho’s Finest Russets®, and, with cutting board clean and waiting, I stepped toward the table to retrieve them to prepare my meal. “Hmm,” I said out loud. “This is odd. I clearly remember leaving a 5 lb (2.27 kg) bag of Idaho’s Finest Russets® right here on the table; yet now, they seem to be missing.”
I checked the cupboards and the pantry, in the off chance that I had done a little kitchen clean-up during one of my all-too-common sleepwalking episodes, but the taters remained at large. Indy, at this point, having an uncanny knack of sensing when I’m about to discover something she has [knowingly] done wrong, began to quietly, but quickly, make her way back to the bedroom.
“Oh, goddamn it …” I said, which sped up her exit, as she’s grown quite accustomed to that phrase, and knows exactly what it means.
I went to the back door and opened it, and sure enough, there was the package of purloined potatoes perched on the porch. I was perplexed – she not only would have had to drag the bag off the table and across the floor, but lift it about 6” (15.2 cm) to get it through her dog-door - a tall order for one without opposible thumbs. And yet there it lay.
And next to it: a steak knife.
And next to that: the remains of a bag of about 30 Charms Blow Pop suckers that I had also bought.
I have no idea what she’s up to. I do know that potatoes can be used as a source of electricity, so I suspect that she’s building some sort of powered device to aid in an escape attempt. I’ve yet to figure out what the Blow Pops could be for - perhaps as some sort of McGuyver-esque adhesive, or to fashion a large balloon out of the gum center. An alternative theory is that she’s planning my demise … I know that potatoes are a source of potassium, which is used to stop a person’s heart during executions, as it interrupts the function of the sodium-potassium cellular pump. Maybe she just wants to have some candy while watching me gasp my last breath. In any case, I haven’t slept in two days.
On an unrelated note: Sweet adorable puppy available, free to