My Dog is a Genius Mastermind

Matermind

This morning I woke up to a gift, the kind of gift that makes pet owners want to just  hug their pets super tight and not let go until they pass out…I mean, gently fall asleep. No, it was not a poop or a pee.There was pee, but that’s like walking out to find my children playing Wii, no big surprise.

No, this was a doozy and what’s worse, I think he planned the whole thing. I was asleep, as I often am on Saturday mornings, while my daughter was watching Strawberry Shortcake. I woke, only to find dark stains, smudges, and ink blots all over my oh so pretty white coverlet, and white sheets. Sheets that are like a gazillion thread count (or whatever they said to make me buy them). Only me and Paris sleep on sheets of such extraordinary comfort.

The dark blotches looked as if my dog had found an indelible marker, packaged some TNT around it, and then plunged down the detonator. There were spots on the sheets where he bit through with such fervor, and the ink was distributed so evenly, it looked like a professional job.Like any good detective, I screamed at the suspect and let him out in the yard, mainly for his own safety.Then I searched for clues.There was no pen, no evidence.I had a new book on the bed and I was certain the black cover was defective and the ink was smearing off, but I rarely rub books so feverishly over my bedding.My dog would also need opposable thumbs for such a task.

Then I found it. On some of the ink splotches, there was a greasy chunky residue.I picked up a chunk and mushed it between my fingers, like a melted crayon.Wait, there’s a splinter of wood in that chunk on the pillow. This is not a crayon.This was my new retro navy blue metallic eyeliner. There was no evidence because the rest of said pencil was Tanner’s breakfast.

Listen, I’m a pretty realistic person who is rarely paranoid, but I am quite sure this was premeditated. This is how I think it went down: I wore the eyeliner yesterday in an 80’s tribute to the late Michael Jackson, an occurrence I was freaking out over. He was the only suspected child molester that I truly enjoyed and forgave, because of his insanely awesome talent. Talent and wealth make up for a lot of misgivings in America, even sharing your bed with Emmanuel Lewis.

Back on track, my dog is vehemently anti anything retro. I have heard him say on more than one occasion, “I don’t want this crappy rubber burger or fake New York Times newspaper. Go get me some Nylabone made from space-age webbed plastic cells, or some Kong industrial NASA rubber, and a chicken pot pie…bitch!” Of course, when a dog calls you “bitch,” it’s a compliment.

His distaste for celebrating decades of yore, and his taste for greasy pencils made from toxins and whale blubber made this a crime worth committing. He must have grabbed his Nylabone, which he routinely shreds, and brought it onto the bed.This allowed me to sleep longer knowing I could pick up the 1000 pieces later. The chewing coaxed me to sleep like a lullaby.

When he was sure I was out, he whined until my daughter followed him to the kitchen. There she found the new eyeliner and decided to play with it, as Tanner knew she would. When she was finished getting ready for Studio 54, she put it on the dining room table. Then Tanner chased Coco, my cat, over to said table. Coco saw the pencil, and started one of those soccer games cats do, and batted it around till she went for the goal. She eyed Tanner with a smirk and whacked it high into the air. He readied himself, did a twisting jump,and gracefully caught the evidence … brought it back to the bed, and started chewing his Nylabone to make sure I would not wake and Ryan would not look away from the television screen.

Then he went to town, with the two of us none the wiser. I have to give him credit. He pulled off a brilliant plan  and ate the evidence to boot. But no crime is “perfect,” and it was his sloppiness that got him in the end. Oh, he will go behind bars. I guarantee his crate awaits.

8 thoughts on “My Dog is a Genius Mastermind

  1. Bari

    Jen,

    Your true crime writing is worthy of a Nancy Grace discourse. Sherlock Holmes surely could have used you. Now if only you could help me solve the “missing shoe after my housekeeper left” confusion.

    Reply
  2. nancy schutt

    Dogs are always getting blamed for human actions that no one wants to take responsibility for- eating the last piece of cold pizza, lost socks, farting.
    Anyone could tell looking at that face that Tanner would never have eaten black designer eyeliner. He’s a BROWN dog! Sheesh.

    Reply
  3. cherie

    Dear Jen: My heart sunk when you described what happened. Aren’t dogs the best. They ruin you house and all your possessions, they keep you from taking long happy vacations and all along they eat into you very sole making you want to hold them, love them and yes, even forgive them.
    Get that dog to an obedience class.

    Reply
  4. Barry

    Are you going to be able to use your Gazillion thread count, new “tye dyed” sheets? This was quite a Tail !!

    Reply
  5. ChristyB

    I don’t know, he looks a little misunderstood? I think there might be a pretty good defense for temporary insanity. Seriously, what was your daughter watching, Strawberry Shortcake? It might as well have been Spongebob and we don’t know that it wasn’t! That would drive any “normal” animal or human insane. Haven’t you heard of the “Barney Plea of Temp Insanity.” They have added Spongebob and are thinking about Dora. I wouldn’t do anything rash and think this thing through. Your dog might be a genius, subjecting him to that kind of torture, he might wind up getting your house! ; )

    Reply

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