Marley is getting it in the neck again. Been a really bad boy, double bad boy.
Last night mum was chopping raw chicken for risotto (she makes a lovely risotto) when the house phone rang. When she went back to the kitchen after only five minutes, the big grey beast was on the counter top, front paws on the chopping board, helping himself to the chicken! He got down pretty sharpish when she yelled. I just watched, horrified that any pet in this house would steal food. After all, we’re very well fed. (Please don’t look at the Oops! page; that was a very long time ago.*)
He already drinks water from any glass or vase he can find (and the bathroom taps) and, a few days ago, was caught sneaking milk out of my mum’s coffee mug.
Then this morning mum discovers a mangled pack of wet cat food – not an empty pack dragged out of a bin but an unopened pack, all teeth marks and oozing bits of ‘Select Fisherman’s Choice in Gravy’.
The Irish Aunt once had a cat who helped himself to unopened packs, even stealing them from other people’s houses. Helping himself in the house is one thing but I hope Marley doesn’t turn into a cat burglar. We would never live down the shame!
As a very good dog, I was allowed the leftover risotto in with my dinner. Yum, yum.
* Oops, how did this get here?