She's at it again! I'm going to have to kill her. Now I know a lot of you will tell me it's my fault, and the intellectual me might agree with you. The emotional me, on the other hand, is gunning for her.
There's a local place called The All American Burger. They have some of the best fast food I've ever eaten and their prices are incredible. I stopped off there after a particularly frustrating appointment to show a condo, in which the owner didn't give us access (for the second day in a row). I drove many miles to get there and . . . nothing. Buyer was upset, as was I so I did what I do best. I ate. A quarter pound burger with cheese was on the menu, along with a large fries and a diet soda. After all, I'm on a diet.
When I came home I had to let the dogs out and left the remains in the bag behind the railing to my living room (which is blocked off by a gate at the only access point). I'm sure you can figure the rest of the story. I threw in a load of wash, cleaned up the kitchen, changed the linens and then let the dogs up on the bed (with a sheet thrown over it so they wouldn't mess it up) for snuggle time. I was tired and frustrated and turned on the computer to check in. It took about 20 minutes to realize Ms. Tish wasn't with us. Thinking I'd accidentally forgotten to let her in with the troops, I rushed downstairs calling her name.
On the second step up from the landing was a gloppy mess of ketchup with a couple of tiny french fries and a bag torn so badly as to be rendered unrecognizable. I'd saved the remainder (about 1/2 little cup) of the kechup, planning to dispose of it in my own garbage. By now I was screaming my little darling's name as I stepped in the sludge.
I have not yet begun to attempt to clean up the mess. Just how do you get ketchup out of carpeting anyway? This is a first for me.
So, if I let her, Ruby will be one year old on Sunday. I think it's time to start that auction up again. My biggest problem. She's just too bloody smart!