Wayne wrote:

> When we went back in the house we discovered our toy spitz, Trixi, with
> the last tiny morsel in her mouth. Trixi had managed to get up to the
> table, snatch the roast, and leave absolutely everything else on the
> table undisturbed, without even the slightest wrinkle in the tablecloth.
> So went our leftover roast for sandwiches the next day.

One day, I'd made a tuna sandwich for my husband and brought it
upstairs. Can't interrupt the video game to eat, you know. A
couple of minutes later I hear ... uh, nance? Mildly annoyed, I
something sweet like, what's wrong with your sandwich? He's
something of a perfectionist. Can I have a top piece of bread?
What the ... so I went back upstairs to see what the problem was.
My dog, who had never in her life stolen food, had eaten the top
half of his sandwich without him even noticing.

Funny, he's thinking, what now, since when do we eat open faced
tuna sandwiches? and I'm thinking, what could possibly be wrong
with a tuna sandwich?

nancy