The Emperor and Empress of Destruction
In situations like these “blame” becomes a harsh and destructive word. Was I the one who forgot to secure the specially designed “dog proof your trash can” bungee (that the dogs still know how to infiltrate, but is a good first line of defense)? Technically yes. Was I the one who forgot to make sure that the dogs five gallon self-refilling water bowl had water in its self-refilling reservoir? Well, yes. Was I the one who decided to protest the dearth of water, or the lack of central heating and air, or the collapse of the Dow, or whatever bee was in the bonnet of my canine life companions? No. That was not me. That was Scooter and Bailey.
I envision it went down a little something like this:
Bailey: Hey Scoots, I’m thirsty.
Scooter: Yeah, me too.
Bailey: I think the only reasonable way to deal with our feelings in this moment is to destroy.
Scooter: Um, okay. What should we destroy?
Bailey: I think knocking down the trash can and spreading the various fetid contents all over the house would do the trick.
Scooter: Fun! Remember to get as much as we can on the carpet.
Bailey: Word, brother. I call dibs on the wrapper from last night’s salmon.
Scooter: But of course.
Bailey: Oh and remember, when they come home we have to act like we have no idea who is responsible for this.
Scooter: Not a problem. By the time they get home I will not remember who did this.
Bailey: That’s what I thought.