My dog, the cat.

I think my dog is secretly a cat. No, she doesn't meow or hiss at people. She doesn't claw at thing or piss in a box inside. She has nine lives.

Know what she did last night? Got into one of my present that had 3 chocolate coins in it and ripped a whole in the netted bag and eat them and the aluminum coverings and the bag. Idiot. If she had eaten the money I had in that bag, oh boy would she be feeling some pain.

But that was just little. There are bigger incidents. I came home from school and my mom informed me about the activities of the night before. My parents had hosted a cocktail parties with some sweet nom for a couple other couples. Someone had made a bundt cake. A chocolate bundt cake. And this dumbass dog decided she wanted to try some. And not just a nibble. Unless you call half the cake a nibble. So yeah... Isn't chocolate lethal to dogs? Well all she did was puke her life away until 5 am with my mom taking care of her. Poor mom. Stupid dog.

This is not the first time that the idiot has done this. She does this every few years. The second year or so that we had her, my parents went to France and my grandparents watched us when we weren't in school. Someone forgot to contain the dog in the laundry room when we weren't home and she got into all sorts of things. She ate up my grandma's medicine. She tore through  a deck of cards. She devoured a box of brownies. A huge box of delicious chocolate brownies. All she did was throw up that night in her cage a lot. Well my very conservative Catholic grandma was using some inappropriate language. Which I found hilarious in my younger years.

But really. How the Hell is this canine not dead? I mean in no way am I wishing that she was gone, I'm just saying, she must be down to her 3rd or 4th life now. And this is so ridiculous.

"It's not the size that counts. It's what he does with the wallet."