You know the phrase: “It just eats money”, well guess what? It’s her latest trick.
However, in EBJ's defence, I will admit I don’t think she meant to eat it.
I had just taken the opportunity to de-fug my handbag and had everything out on the dining room table in neat piles ready to put back into said bag, including the ohmigodthat’sjustmademyday pile of scrumpled up £5 and £10 notes, which are to be found hidden among various receipts and other shopping detritus. This precious pile was sitting next to the rations pile of small round shortbread biscuits that you get with coffees in a variety of ubiquitous airport lounges, motorway hotels etc, and some good old fashioned individually wrapped teabags.
[I am sorry but in my experience, you only get decent tea bags in the UK. A French tisane just does not cut the mustard and as for a decent tea bag let alone a decent cup of cha in the good old US of A (unless imported) forget it.]
Anyway, I popped upstairs to put a few things away. You know Power Ranger back to Bog Boy’s room, Nintendo to the Boy’s room etc and was returning down the stairs when I heard a heavy thump, like a large parcel had fallen to the floor, there was a slight gagging noise then as I emerged in to the dining room utter silence. Just the flickering of the fire in the wood burner dancing across the scene. I switched on the light to get a better look and didn’t notice a thing. All the piles were exactly as I left them or so I thought. I started to put everything back in my bag and noticed that one of the biscuits was missing. I immediately glanced down at the Sassy dog in her basket by said fire and she rolled her eyes at me in that god-I-am-so-guilty-but-don’t-I-look-cute sort of way. And there beside her was the biscuit. So I picked it up thinking that was lucky.
I then turned to the most precious pile of all ready to start counting my millions. There was a problem. The folded up tenner which I swear I put there next to the ration pile was no longer there. I looked on the floor thinking the dog must have knocked it off after trying to purloin the biscuit. I searched every other pile on the table; I took everything out of the bag and searched again. I checked my purse and I checked the floor yet again even going under the dining room table on my hands and knees for a really good scout. Nothing.
I looked back at the dog. She grinned at me and thumped her tail – she looked so seriously guilty that there could be only one explanation – she’d eaten the tenner thinking it was the biscuit and had done so in a hurry because she could hear me coming down the stairs into the dining room.
It has left me in a bit of a pickle. I mean will she be able to digest a tenner? Will it do her any harm? Will I be able to retrieve said tenner and if so do I really want to? If I do retrieve it will it still be legal tender? And more importantly did the most evil whippet on the planet really make a mistake or has she decided that eating money is a good trick to add to her growing repertoire?