Sir Francis Bacon once said, “Opportunity makes a thief.” Indeed, it does. For what do you think happens when you leave a box full of donuts untended in a room with two Labrador Retrievers?
Now, when I say a box full, I mean a heap – a complete dozen. I’m talkin’ three Bavarian Kremes, two chocolate glazed, four jelly, an apple crumb and two powdered.
If you’re thinking the obvious answer is a couple of bloated (w)itches with a ‘B’ or puddled boat loads of barf on the living room rug well, no, not this time. Although, having read some of our pooches’ previous antics, I can understand why you’d think that.
No, this time, Jazzie had Madison, our visiting friends’ puppy, as an accomplice to the dastardly deed we’ve come to dub – The Dunkin’ Donut Incident – a magical
tail tale of canine high-jinks involving the aforementioned box of sweets erroneously left sitting on the bar height kitchen counter when our families joined together for an afternoon of fun-in-the-sun adventure and forging memories that would make us laugh for decades.
I’ve always envisioned the scene leading up to the event to go something like this…
Her wet snout pressed up against the front door’s glass sidelight, Madison barks, “I thought they’d never leave.”
In classic retriever pose – nose twitching and directed toward the countertop,
Madison sprints to the kitchen, her toenails clicking on the cool, tiled floor. “I still can’t believe they left them out in the open.”
“That’s thanks to you, you know – faking you had the runs – a little distraction goes a long way. If they didn’t leave when they did they’d’ve been late. My humans hate to be late.”
“Yyyy-up. The circling around the island must’ve done it – except, I was really casing out the counter – trying to find a way to drop that donut box when no one was looking.”
“That, my dear Madison, might not have boded well for us.” Jazzie huffs. “But we have other fish to fry right now.”
“Fish? Where? I love fish!”
“No. We have another problem. I can’t reach that high. It’s the curse of the British breed of Lab – short and stocky.”
“Rrrrruff break, but maybe it’s just as well.” Madison hangs her head. “Both our vets said we need to lose a few pounds.”
“That’s easy for them to say. They don’t live next door to Cheerio packin’ babes like we do.”
“I know. I’ll fall over and play dead for anything – except maybe lettuce.”
“Me too, unless, of course, there’s blue-cheese dressing involved.”
The air-conditioner kicks on.
A cool blast stirs the air.
*Sniff – Sniff*
“There it is again!”
“That smell – uuggghhh!”
make grab the donuts!” Aiming for the counter, Madison bounces up on her hind legs. “Nooooooo!” Her paws slip off the ledge.
“Try it again!” Jazzie cheers. “You can do it! Go Girl Go!”
Madison snorts. She barks. She leaps ———– She stumbles, falling short of her mark.
“Smell that chocolate! Sniff that jelly! I want SPRINKLES in my belly! ” Jazzie chants.
Madison rallies. She backs up to the wall. Scrambling until her feet gain traction – she’s off, running at breakneck speed – she leaps – aaaaand
“Grrrrrreat job Madison!” barks Jazzie. “Good Girl. Now just remember: even-steven, one for you, one for me, one for you, one for me. You can start by tossing me that apple crumb.”
“Rrrrright, that’ll teach Alex for not playing with us today!”
CHOMP – CHOMP
Mumpf – Mumpf
R.I.P. Madison “Mama” Chapman
Thanks for the memories – for the fun, the laughter, and the tears.
See you again on the Rainbow Bridge
With a bag-o-dunkins’ in hand.