These are the first words out of my husband’s mouth when I got back from teaching dog class last night: “Nemo ate your Junior Mints, not me.” Oh, these two. They’ll be the death of me. A dog trainer’s dog + a dog trainer’s husband = DISASTER.
I asked: “How did he get them when you were right here the whole time? Did you split them with him or something?” (Knowing this was 100% possible.)
He replied: “He got them when I was outside with the dogs.”
This led to a lot more questions from me such as: If the dogs were outside, how did Nemo get the Junior Mints? Why were you outside with the dogs, anyway? Especially with all three dogs when one — especially Nemo — was left in here?
Anyway, the details aren’t relevant, but let me tell you what I found interesting about this entire episode. Nemo steals only when my husband is home with him. Never when I’m home.
And that’s not the only thing that’s different where Nemo’s concerned. When we’re eating dinner, Nemo puts his slimy, slobbery, drooley face right in my husband’s lap. When my husband’s done with dinner, Nemo will actually try to move my husband’s arm out of the way and try to lick the plate. I’m dead serious.
What does Nemo do with me at dinner time? Keeps his distance. I cannot stand to eat while a canine beggar is trying to work his magic on me. I’m impenetrable! I don’t even allow the begging. Oh yes, I could ignore it alright, let the behavior extinguish on it’s own. But I find begging so annoying that it’s just not allowed. Beggars are asked to settle before they even become beggars. Before long, the beggars aren’t beggars, but are instead, brilliant settlers. On my watch, that is.
Back to the Junior Mints. It was, by the way, a movie theater sized box of Junior Mints. And my name was all over them. I had been saving them — for that very night actually.
So the Junior Mints. Here’s what really blows my mind. Those Junior Mints had been sitting on the counter for two days without incident. I even broke my own rule and let the dogs have the run of the entire house while I dropped off a book at the library. Not a soul even moved from where they were napping. Nothing.
So, why, I queried my husband, do you think Nemo stole while (1) I was gone and (2) my husband was the sole human being in the house. My husband’s answer: “Because he’s a bad dog, that’s why,” said with mock fierceness.
No. Because Nemo plays him like nobody’s business. Nemo knows that my husband’s not the most observant character. Nemo knows that my husband will be fooled when Nemo barks to go out, getting the other three dogs riled up and go running out, including my husband — without Nemo. Nemo’s a PLAYER! And my husband’s the playee.
And I’m just the girl who gets robbed of her Junior Mints after dog training class…