In for: 5 counts misbehaving, 2 counts theft, 1 count vandalism.
Reggie, our flat coated retriever, came to us out of a "free to good home" ad in the newspaper--we should have known better. This is a man's dog, a real dog’s dog. Since we took him from the crazy lady with a billion dogs (she would visit Russia, and adopt Ruskie street dogs to come home with), he has had many "it wasn’t me" moments. For instance, one time while having people over for a BBQ, we had all of the food on a plate outside ready to be put on the grill (note: safely centered on the table on the deck) and when we came back outside...the food had miraculously vanished. I am talking about raw hamburger patties, hotdogs, and shrimp--he didn't even spare the skewers.
Then there are the times where he has to prove his masculinity and hump the pillows in the house: I mean full on humping to the point where he rips the pillow cases right off. Needless to say, no house tours were given that night.
What is it with dogs wanting exactly what you don’t want them touching? I bought this beautiful, black, furry throw blanket with sequins for the foot of our bed. I fold it up and take it off the bed nightly and put it away when I know he may have a raging desire to hump some innocently unsuspecting, inanimate household object. Somehow he always finds it, and makes it his own. I'll find him fully wrapped around it with the corner in his mouth, not chewing on it but slobbering.
And what is it with dogs and car rides? Reggie will jump into any car with the door open if he's not leashed and I’m not exaggerating. A couple of years back, he dashed at first sight of daylight through the front door, did his best Carl Lewis imitation and sprinted down the road to the first vehicle door his eyes spotted (or possibly his leather-loving nose detected), and literally leapt into our neighbors SUV, climbed his way to the third row of seats, and--slobbering all over her window--demanded a ride around the block. And this is how we become acquainted with most of our neighbors.
Jury's back. Punishment: 100 hours of community service.