Dion, Marshmallows, and Howard's Piggies

Tuesday night, by some unknown nefarious means,
our dog Dion got hold of a bag of marshmallows, opened it, and ate them.
By the time Howard caught him, Dion had happily gummed his way
through all but 3 of the puffy white goodies.

It is a law of nature that a whole lot of these:

do not belong in the tummy of this:

Partly because it leads to this:

A dog who cannot move.

I like to think that regret is written all over his face, but I doubt it.

There's another reason you don't want to fill a 20-pound Cavalier with dozens of marshmallows.

Eventually, those marshmallows need to make their escape.

And the wise pet owner knows that Mother Nature, being the merry prankster that she is,

might choose a pretty spectacular means of accomplishing this.

If you are from the New York area, you know John Gotti as The Teflon Don.

Let me introduce Dion DiPoochy, The Teflon Dog.

The dog who, his first Christmas, climbed into a box

of broken glass ornaments, and merrily munched on the shards.

And on a recent Christmas, ate the entire contents of a huge can of Poppycock caramel corn.

The list of Dion's unauthorized consumption is long, but this time -- as always --

everything ... ummm ... came out just fine in the end.

You'd think a dog of almost 13 would be wiser than to do this anymore.

You would be wrong.

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And just when I thought we had no pictures from Thanksgiving,

this one turns up on my niece's Facebook page.

So I steal it.

Uncle Howard, two-fisting pigs in blankets, slightly dark on their little bottoms.

I noticed for the first time how well his Turkey Shirt is made -- look at the matching of the print

along the placket.  Nice work, Chinese factory laborers.

Can you imagine how nuts they must think Americans are, to wear these shirts?

Well, one American, at any rate.

Tomorrow -- some furniture finds, and kicking around some Christmas decorating ideas. -- Cass