He does that sometimes. I call it his Puggle Power Hour. Usually, power hour starts when he gets given a treat that he is exceptionally excited about. He runs around. He plays with it. He throws it and catches it.The only word that really describes it is “frolicking”.
Yeah, he frolicks. It’s absolutely ridiculous. And adorable, but mostly ridiculous. That boy just loves his food.
Tonight though, I couldn’t figure out what his deal was.
I hadn’t given him any treats. Dinner was long gone. What gives Koly?! He finished his blitz around the house, flopped down on the couch and started chewing.
Where the WOOF did he get a carrot?!
No really. Where did it come from? WHERE DID IT COME FROM?! Things like this drive me insane. I have no idea where he found a carrot.
Has he been hoarding it somewhere?
Just how old is that thing? What if it’s like spoiled and gross. Ugh. He’ll vomit on the bed. I know it. I decided that I had to take it away. So I did. Well, for a minute. It was fine. Fresh, crisp…What the bark? Where did it come from?
I started imagining all the ways he could have procured an illicit carrot.
Once I stopped daydreaming about Koly in a spy vs. spy kind thing, sneaking around trying to get a carrot, I realized that he probably didn’t set any Roadrunner-esque trap to catch a carrot.
So how did he get it?!
I have no idea. That boy is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. All I can think is that maybe, somehow, he must have learned how to A: open the fridge B: slide out the produce drawer and C: steal a carrot.
And if that’s how this went down, I am so screwed.
Anyone out there know how to puggle-proof a fridge? I’m begging.