Yesterday I decided to bake some chocolate chip cookies to send to Joe. It was a perfect day for baking. Cold and chilly outside, we had the fire going, and in between putting cookies in the oven and taking them out, I was reading a good book, "The Invisible Wall" by Harry Bernstein.
When the cookies had cooled, I packaged them carefully in ziploc bags, then wrapped those in bubble wrap, then tucked them in a box along with some mail and Halloween goodies. This morning, my plan was to take the kids to school, stop off for a 15 minute appointment for myself, then take the box to the post office.
When the appointment was over, I hurried out to the car, opened the door, and the smell of chocolate chip cookies wafted across the parking lot. Abby, our 7-year-old shepherd mix, sat staring out the window. And all over the back seat was schrapnel from my package. Bubble wrap. Plastic baggies. Cardboard. And one cookie (burp).
I can't believe she broke through a sealed priority mail carton, and all that plastic. But, this is the same dog that I cannot trust with a latte. She's finished off two, one a mocha when I had to leave her for 3 minutes to run into the bank, and another time she snarfed down the remainders of a pumpkin latte.
It's a good thing I love this dog.