It all began with the taste of a thumb. I spotted mom's green suede gloves laying around in the foyer a few weeks ago. I had gotten rather tired of rawhides and the cotton fillers of the silly toys they give me, you see. And the gloves did look like grass in the springtime. They weren't home so who's gonna stop me? Yum, didn't taste bad and didn't make me puke. But I didn't go overboard because last time I had glove, they shoved me in the crate and locked me up. I had to be careful and see if they noticed its absence.
So far so good. Night came and went. Mom and dad didn't look and see. Nobody grabbed me and yelled nonsense while waving the silly thing in the air. No being locked up in the garage. Yeah! So the next day I ate a few more tips of fingers. Tiny ones. I thought I saw mom noticed. She looked at me funny but didn't say anything. She never wore them anyways. Then today mom came home. Uh oh.... She sure didn't look happy. I ate all of the fingers off one glove but the middle finger, yeah that finger. And I left it on the floor in front of the door for her to see when she came home for lunch. Why is mom so upset?? She says she's going to take a picture and show everyone how I really feel about her and dad's generosity. It's a dog's life or should I say shiba's life! I am one spoiled shiba and do I know it.... purrrr.....
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