It was mid-morning. Martin was changing into his work clothes when he glimpsed our puppy Eddy emerging furtively from the room that contained the cat’s litter box.
Eddy froze near the top of the stairs. His guilty expression, firmly clamped mouth, and bulging cheeks said it all.
Bonanza! He’d scored a mouthful of cat poop.
We yell at him every time. He knows he’s not supposed to eat cat poop. But apparently it’s just too yummy to resist.
Martin and Eddy stared at each other for a long moment, motionless, sizing up the situation and their relative positions. Then they both sprang into action.
