For fifteen years my nerves were pretty much kept on edge by my companion, Spot. Spot would best be described as "mutt" though his vet graciously put him in the records as "shepherd mix." What kept me on edge was the dog's super-protective attitude with regard to his humans and their property. He would bite. He could trot along side as one rode the bike to town. He would sit quietly beside the parked bicycle and bother no one walking by. Unless they touched the bike. He would sit on the corner of the lawn next to the sidewalk and bother no passersby. Unless they stepped into the yard. Definitely good dog/bad dog.
Sunday dinner was a big deal at our house in this time, and early one Sunday morning, Ellie prepared a Boston cream pie in two beautiful layers and left it on the counter when we went off to church. Upon our arrival home, we discovered in the kitchen and still sitting on the counter a one-layer cake, the filling still intact but the top layer completely gone. The dog did not want to come into the kitchen when he was called!
(I have pictures of Spot, but they are all in old-fashioned albums on shelves back in Indiana.)
We also had a golden retriever who disgraced himself only once, and that was the time he took the Sunday beef roast off the counter. Just too much to resist, I guess. Oh, we were home and caught him before he ate it. Did we eat it? you betcha.
Secondary Roads is conducting a "My Naughty Pet" contest. Hurry over with your entry!
I think I'll enter the "Spot" story.