Some days I love my dog. He’s glorious and loving. He could snuggle all day long. He doesn’t shed. He’s what my husband and I consider the perfect size. He’s handsome. He’s extremely tolerant of our toddler when she gets too rough. He has a lot of great qualities.
And then there are days when I hate him. Like today. When I go to make myself a well-deserved bagel and cream cheese for breakfast and find nothing but half a plastic bag and a carb-comatose dog. Yes, that’s right. My dog ate my entire bag of bagels. In under 30 minutes, which is how long I was gone from the house. 5 bagels. 30 minutes.
I hate him and his iron stomach today.