It all started one rainy afternoon when Mom brought home some Hostess Pink Snoball Cupcakes. A dozen delicious looking snacks sitting pretty on the kitchen table. They looked like individual furry pink hedgehogs sleeping in celephane. They tasted like uh ..........but wait I'm getting ahead of myself.

It was the kind of day that all JR's love. The patio was slick with mist which makes sliding across much easier when you get to chasing varmits. Dirt would stick to your paws and when you rolled in something dead it would stick to your coat. Ah...I remember it like it was yesterday. Okay it was yesterday. Mom didn't want us out there getting filthy and tracking muddy footprints inside so we lined up for inspection at the door and one by one got our feet cleaned. Sidedish got the remains of a decayed tree frog scraped from her belly. Oh the joys of rolling in something dead. She also got thrown in the kitchen sink for a de-frogging. Hee hee hee!

But to get back to the story. I distincly remember counting twelve pink coconut balls when I came in that day. Twelve divided by four, er..carry the one, square root that by 64, okay that would be six for me, two for Sidedish, two for Scooby and two for Shadow. Being I am the only one that has studied the "new math" I was always in charge of divvying up our treats. I could already imagine devouring that cute pink fuzzy exterior that would expose the chocolate cake below filled with creamy white goodness. Oh the ecstacy! It was the last thing on my mind as I curled up for a nap in the sunspot that comes through the living room window. Forget counting sheep. Silly sheep. Pink Hostess Cupcakes sailed over my head, one...two...three... their tantalizing fragrance playing on my mind like a thirst crazed man looking for a watering hole. It was a tragic mistake.

Awaking to the theme song for the Oprah Winfrey Show I slowly stretched and sauntered into the kitchen. Thinking of my reward just for being me, in this case pink cupcakes, made my whiskers quiver with anticipation. Now this next part I'm not very proud of but some things must be done despite the consequences of being considered a wuss. Mom gave me a friendly scratch behind the ears and was talking that silly sing song talk about me being her baby and I'm so cute....blah blah blah. Talking advantage of the situation I smiled and wagged my stump and ran over to the kitchen table giving her my best stuff. After all, a JR has to do what a JR has to do. Putting my head down between my front paws with my butt in the air, stump wildly gyrating from side to side I let out a baroof that I normally reserve for pigs feet and Snausages. "No"! she said. No maybes, or after you eat your dinner or nothing. Just NO! Mom went off to work and that left me to contemplate plan B. Stretching up as high as I could I lovingly counted my delectable friends. One, two.......nine ten. Ten? What could have happened during my twenty minutes of beauty sleep and why didn't I hear the celephane wrapper being torn away? These and many other questions nagged at me as I wandered into the den to see what poor schmo was being dumped on on the Oprah show.

The first matter of business was to check everyone's breath. Trying to look calm, cool and collected I eased up to Sidedish who was still snoozing by the fireplace. Now Sidedish isn't much on being snuck up on so I would have to be quick to get in, sniff and get out. Not wanting her to take this as a personal affront to her dental hygeine habits I casually leaned in for the sniff. Dirt, tennis balls, this mornings breakfast but no coconut. Rule her out. Besides had she done it she would have run over to me and shoved her nose in my face so I would know she had had a something that I didn't get. Now where was Shadow!

Now Shadow is a whole different story. I can't even pretend to sneak up on her because she has got the keenest sense of hearing I have ever seen. It has something to do with that flop-earred condition she has. One ear up and one ear down. Its the down ear that always knows when someone is sneaking up on her so I have to make up a good enough excuse to smell her breath. I know! Tug-a-war. Perfect excuse to get close enough. I started looking for our pull toy. Mom usually puts it in the strangest places like in our toybox. If she would leave it in the middle of the floor where I left it I wouldn't have these problems. Dad always seems to be able to find it. I hear him yelling all the time in the morning when he steps on it and nearly kills himself. Well maybe I better not ask him.

To be continued......




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