The (not so) mysterious case of the missing Freckles

The wonders and joys of being a dog owner.  Read on. If you’re contemplating buying a puppy for Christmas, this might make you think twice…

Chocolate addict

Once upon a time there was a sweet but slightly wicked Cavoodle named Blossom. She lived with her family on the lower North Shore of Sydney in Australia.

Blossom loved her life. Her family adored her and they all enjoyed daily sunrise walks around the harbour’s edge. Her humans snorted with laughter as she chased seagulls and other marine birds, never catching them, but enjoying the chase and Blossom delighted in knowing that she was making her family happy. Tracking rabbits in the nearby bush was another favourite game.

A girl and her pup…

Her family was kind and fed and watered her well, often throwing in a delicious bone to gnaw on. Blossom would eat the bone outside, rolling it over and over in the soil and then carefully carry it upstairs to bury it in her human Mum’s bed. She could never quite understand why her mother didn’t seem to appreciate the gift.

Now, as it happens, Blossom is not perfect. She has a dark secret. You see she is a chocolate thief and a prodigious one at that. If it’s about, she will find it. The human children of her family had long ago learned to put chocolate up high, in places way out of reach of a wily pooch. Yet still, chocolate managed to disappear regularly. Her humans tried to explain that chocolate was very poisonous to dogs but Blossom’s addiction was such that she ignored all the dangers, sticking her paws in her ears, wandering around the house yelling loudly “lah, lah, lah, lah” if anyone dared tried to detail the inevitable, very messy, consequence of eating it.

And so we come to the theft of approximately 200g of Allen’s Freckles and why four officers from North Sydney police station turned up at our door at 2.00am last night.

Such deliciousness (iluvlollies.com.au)

Earlier that evening Blossom had been sprung red-pawed with her snout in a bowl of Freckles which had somehow been left on a table. She’d managed to jump about a metre off the ground onto the table and had demolished the lot. She was subsequently banned to the only part of the house that had timber flooring and the family waited. And waited. Half an hour later the first vomit came. Then another and another until there were 6 delightful deposits left for her human father to clean up. Thankfully Blossom had the good sense to vacate to the back garden just in time for some fairly violent explosions from the other end.

Bedtime came and Blossom, much to her horror was left locked downstairs. Time passed and nothing. Then at about 1.30am I was woken to hear a distant thump and the very obvious sound of Blossom trying to break through the back door.

Cue the neighbours (you couldn’t wish for better ones). They too had been woken by they noise (and unable to raise me on the phone) had called the police to report a suspected break in. Ten minutes later four burly coppers knocked on the front door. I almost died with fright, thinking the worst. Someone had died, there were madmen about, a gas leak with a pending explosion. You name it, a bazillion horrid scenarios all raced through my mind.

Of course there was no one breaking in. I couldn’t bring myself to confess to what I knew had most likely caused the disturbance. As I chatted to the police and assured them that nothing was awry, my wicked chocolate thief wound her way coquettishly between the policemen, licking their legs, asking to be patted. As the saying goes, butter literally wouldn’t have melted in her mouth but God the chocolate had!

End of story. Chocolate is now kept in the fridge and Blossom won’t be getting any treats for a month.

What quirky things have happened in your home lately?

Until next time…

May I cheekily suggest my new book would make a great Christmas present?  You can purchase it via the link in my sidebar above, or at all good bookstores and online. For interview opportunities please contact Jackie Evans on 0407 776 222 or jep.pub@bigpond.net.au