Cookie Monster

First things first: Take a look at Chester's handsome new attire for the recently cooler weather.

Isn't he so snazzy? I was plannin on doing a post just to show off his GQness, but it has been trumped by an unexpected turn of events. However, since he's wearing the supa sexy sweater in the other pictures, I felt it necessary to introduce his wardrobe first. Mission: Accomplished. Now, moving on...

Yesterday, Brad texted me while I was at work saying, "So somebody left cookies on our porch. Think they are safe to eat?" Hmm.. that's a mystery.. No note or message or card or anything. We debated for a bit of the likelihood of a murderer lacing them with anthrax and placing them into our unsuspecting path. (Not unlike when Hermione instructed Harry and Ron to leave two sleeping-potion-filled cakes in easy places for Malfoy's dumb friends Crabbe and Goyle to find, before hiding them in a closet and plucking out a few of their hairs to add to the trio's polyjuice potion in The Chamber of Secrets. Yeah, that's for all my HP friends out there. You know who you are! Anyway, I digress...)

It didn't take much investigating to learn that Emily had left them as a thank you for watching their cat while they go out of town. (Seriously, did they not learn their lesson the last time??) So, after trusting their poisonlessness, Brad brought the container of cookies upstairs with him and "taste-tested" one.

Anyway, that's all just to set up the background for the incident.

Brad and I met right after work and were out of the house until late in the evening. When we got home around 9:30, we immediately noticed that Chester was "actin' a fool." He always greets us with excited, puppy joy, but this was crazy. He was tearing through the house at lightning speed, barely paying us any attention. After a couple minutes, he ran upstairs without us, and stayed up there for quite a while. Well, this was not the welcome we are used to. He always jumps and kisses all over us, and he seldom goes to the opposite floor of the house by himself. We anxiously anticipated what toy he was going to bring down to us, because we were laughing at how much energy he had and assumed that he wanted to play fetch or something.

After a little bit, he ran back down the stairs (so fast that he skipped the bottom three steps, and landed on his face before acting like nothing happened and sprinting twice around the dining room table), but he had no toy with him. Weird. What was he doing up there? He licked the last three drops out of his never-empty water dish and dashed back up stairs. By this time, Brad and I were just laughing out loud and talking about the amount of Loco he had gone. While we put away our groceries and Walmart items, we discussed what could possibly be drawing our sweet puppy upstairs, away from us, and how maybe he's getting older and growing more independent. *tear*

Then Brad went upstairs for the evening. Then he saw it. Then he understood. Then he yelled down at me, "MINDY LYNN!!" Then I ran up the stairs.

Then I saw it. 

Then I understood.

Then it all made so much sense.

That little brat was going psychotic, because he was on a freakin' sugar high! He ate a dozen (minus one) cookies straight out of the container! He never gets any people food, whatsoever (except that one time), and here he goes having all these sweets at once! No wonder he was running around like a banshee. No wonder he was upstairs without us for such long periods of time. No wonder his water bowl was uncharacteristically dry as a bone. No wonder his breath smelled unmistakingly like cookies!! No wonder he seemed so happy and proud of himself. Seriously, he's a brat. A big, bratty, brat.

{Ahem. That's what Brad gets for leaving them on the couch without the lid sealed tightly. I'm jussayin...}

But even with this recent bout of orneriness, he's still the sweetest little pup ever. I mean, did you see him in that adorable sweater?? C'mon...

Regardless, I do believe he owes Emily one giant "Thank You!" for the fresh batch of homemade cookies. I'll make him paw a thank you note. (After all, we want to train our children to be gracious.)