The Dog Ate My Breakfast

"Yes, that is indeed the guilty party, m'Lud, I'd recognise him anywhere."

So there I was this morning, having breakfast at home for once instead of the office which is where I usually scrape something together, when, as I will describe below, the dog ate my toast. Yes, it was balanced somewhat precariously on the couch at the time, but still. This was an unexpected and somewhat startling development. Let me explain.

The point here isn't so much that dogs will snaffle food when opportunity knocks but rather that in this instance I'm convinced he gamed me, deliberately and with malice aforethought, creating an opening to allow this larceny to take place.

Baci knows that his tail can cause havoc, especially when there's a cup of tea sitting on the table in the family room. It's low and large, positioned perfectly for him to threaten mayhem just by being happy. So here was his plan: feint a pass along the table with wildly wagging tail so I'll be forced to protect the cup of tea and then nip along the side of the couch to grab the tasty piece of toast complete with lashings of jam and peanut butter. He did, and it worked perfectly.

What worries me the most is that this was pulled off by a dog known to be dumber than the box of proverbial rocks ... allegedly at least. A dog so IQ-challenged he keeps falling down the stairs because he just forgets what they are for. So here's the issue: if he can evolve from basic household pet to a sentient, scheming demon capable of forming a plan and executing to it in a little over 6 months, what will he be capable of doing 6 years from now???