He looks innocent and it’s true. He was. Once. But that was a brief and precious time. Biscuit has ingested a lot of things I would never taste. He licks up hair and fuzz from the carpets. He noses into the wastebasket and snatches whatever he wants before you can stop him. Yukkydoggy.
He fooled you, didn’t he? Now you have to keep him forever. He won you over but I was never fooled. Now that we all know what he has inside that sweet little fuzzy brain, I have been furtively instructing him how to get treats. Slippers, shoes, dishtowels, sweaters, just about anything loose…my specialty. We are both quick. You didn’t even notice this morning when we grabbed your good sweater and played tug with it in the living room.
Our friend Sylvia called it. She said Biscuit is my accomplice. I have taught him how to run away as soon as you call him. How not to sit when you say sit. I’ll explain: he was sitting so well and you kept loving him up. Well, he was outshining me and so I had to teach him not to sit. I sidled up and wagged my tail and now he doesn’t sit when you ask him to sit. What a fast learner.
It seems that our friend Lucy gave you a puzzle. You couldn’t wait to open it up. I put my paws up and had a look myself. It said New Yorker on top. I can read, of course. The puzzle box showed snow everywhere and people playing and shoveling and bringing Christmas trees on toboggans and in the back of trucks and beautiful green wreaths everywhere. There were no Menorahs, of course, because this puzzle was from 1984 when religious freedom was just a notion. Everyone c celebrated Christmas, and it seemed so simple. People trudged through the snow, their arms laden with gifts. Oh, so beautiful and happy. You tore open the puzzle wrapper and dug right in, playing “Silent Night” on the radio.
Biscuit lay at your feet. You thought he was keeping you company. I knew better. I’ve seen him eat gravel and acorns. He was sneaky. They must have been delicious. Look at the puzzle. Can you spot the pieces Biscuit chewed raw?
Advice from Oliver: Do not be fooled by sweet looks. Those loving eyes can be loaded with mischief.
TRY NOT TO BE FOOLED