We don t dine on fine china, and when the meal is over, we have no rule saying the butter must be rushed to the refrigerator. Barring a heat wave, we leave it out on the dining room table, for the convenience of any family member who might appreciate a dab of delicious butter on a cracker or slice of bread. It s an honor system, and that was why, when the sticks of butter began to disappear, it shook us so. I lined the family members up and read them the riot act, demanding of each where he or she had been at the time of the disappearance. Make no mistake, I told them, patting the dog s greasy head, I will use geometric logic and I will get to the bottom of this.
Theft is kind of cute in a dog.
Surely he must sense the pointlessness of stealing from people who have shown they will give him just about anything. And if he doesn t grasp that, then that's cute, too. My dog is a thief, and from the evidence I ve been able to accumulate, he always will be. Butter was just the beginning. Beau has eaten at least two dozen sticks of the stuff now.