Nigel struggled briefly with one of the ten commandments this weekend. I issued a stern warning to Mrs. Author when I noticed him coveting her pizza as we ate lunch Sunday. His demeanor shifted from typical slacker to intense observer. This is a rarity, and often signals that trouble is to follow.
It did. A few bites in Nigel tired of his spectator role and made the transition to participant with a poorly disguised fake stretch, followed by a perfectly placed left rear paw that sent a bite flying off the fork and straight to the carpet. This story ends in delicious irony: Before Nigel was able to depart the couch and enjoy the fruits of his labor, a certain Labrador Retriever made a cameo appearance from around the corner of the coffee table and absconded with his snack, flying down the hall. She returned shortly to stretch out and sleep off her meal, but not before issuing a solitary belch that rattled dishes in the kitchen cabinets.
And the winner is:
Good, good girl.