
Hesitation, that was my downfall, that and a cat named Billy.
I was so close to taking haul from the kitchen counter, when she meowed so loud that it brought my owner from the front room, where they were unwrapping their Christmas gifts and into the kitchen.
Caught paw handed.
If I hadn’t jumped when the door creaked open, I could have had that turkey all to myself. Look, it isn’t my fault I love meat, and they were taking so long with my breakfast. I should have known better. Last year I grabbed the butter from the side.
Oh, that didn’t end well, my stomach was unsettled for days. A burning, burning, burning ring of fire. But hey, turkey is meant to be healthy for you – or so I thought. I swear that cat wants to get me into trouble, and I didn’t even tell on her for knocking down the Christmas tree last year.
I didn’t bark very loudly at least and she likes being outside.
Now I’m in the dog house, with no sign of my dinner.
Our cat and dog teams have always been partners in crime. Although the shares are often not equal.
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