So Bentley is happy as a clam right now.  While I am berating myself for being an idiot.  I had some KFC for dinner tonight.  I ate in my room, in front of my computer.  When I was done, I put the bag with the bones and the biscuit on my bed.  Bentley doesn’t jump on my bed when I’m around; I’ve taught him that it is my space. (Yes, he jumps up and sleeps there when I’m *not* around, but he immediately jumps off when I come home, good enough for me)

Well, I went to take a shower and forgot the bag on my bed.  My little terror terrier follows his nose everywhere, so when I got out of the shower I found him on my bed with his head in the bag.  He immediately jumped off, but he had managed to get his head stuck through one of the bag handles.  I removed the bag.  There was no more biscuit.  No more chicken bones either.  I’m now terrified he’s got a bone lodged in his throat or something, though he seems fine and rather quite contented with himself.

I want to be mad at him, but part of me can’t help laughing, and I know it’s all my fault anyway!

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