I'm a good dog. My master tells me so every day, but this time I think I'm in big trouble. You see, we just moved into this neighborhood, and we don't have a fence. I shouldn't have left the yard, but the night was young and the spirit of adventure was strong. So I sniffed my way to perdition. Before long a powerful aroma captivated me, and I followed my nose to the garbage can on the corner. I know I shouldn't have done it, but Sparky, the flesh is weak. I stood on my hind legs and pushed over the can. By the time I finished, there were cartons all over the place. I tried to clean up the mess, but there was only so much I could do so I came home. Nobody knows who did it yet, but it's only a matter of time. Why do I feel so guilty, Sparky? It was a gourmet's delight.
Fed Up in Fenton
Dear Fed Up,
Give yourself a break. There's something about a resting garbage can that is irresistible. We've all been there. Be prepared, however, for a prison-like atmosphere if you become a prime suspect. It could mean a week or so of solitary confinement. Humans are strange like that, but thankfully they have short memories.
