A couple of years ago, my husband decided to bake three apple pies for the state fair. After they were out of the oven, we were exhausted and the kitchen was a wreck, so we decided to go out to dinner. We put the dog in her crate, and carefully covered the pies with aluminum foil, to try to keep the cats out. When we came back, it was obvious that something was amiss. The two pies with homemade crust had been uncovered and had large holes eaten right through the middle of the crust. The pie for the Pillsbury contest (using refrigerated dough) was untouched. Damned cats!
Yesterday I toasted a loaf of bread for stuffing and paused to go to the bathroom, leaving a heaping bowl of toast on the counter. I heard the telltale scurry of Sandra the Wonderdog heading across the kitchen floor towards her bed in the livingroom which happens to be her place of choice to comsume treats. I came out to find her lying on her bed with a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and a shamefaced look on her face. I had to laugh.
My husband and I were finishing up breakfast one Sunday morning when I got up to retrieve our sweet dwarf hamster, Seashell, from her cage. I set her down on the table to run around and explore while I started cleaning up. Immediately she made a beeline for my husband’s plate, climbed over the rim, and started polishing off the remaining fragments of scrambled egg. I would never have expected her to go for it, but she did.
I have a picture somewhere but it’s not online right now.
I watched Winston and Rudy so many times! I’m a new subscriber. My kitten Chica is a new fan too. She sits on my lap watching Winston in amazement.
My little italian Greyhound once stole a whole loaf of old, stale, french bread from somewhere outside of the house. I found out about it when I heard him trying to get back into the house through the ‘dog door’.
He kept getting stoped because the loaf was too long to fit.
My late cat, Kitty, once stole a potato skin covered in cheese and bacon. She loved cheese and bacon.
During my last tour to Iraq, my platoon inherited Whitey, shephard mix. Great Great Great dog. Went on pretty much every patrol with us. Would chase little kids back into their houses, wouldn’t let anyone near our patrols, including the Iraqi Police. One day we were heading in from a patrol and I wanted to check out some of the local shops closest to our house, just to show our presence and kinda measure the tolerance. I was in the store and the shopkeeper started yelling, I turned around in time to see Whitey stealing two pieces of chicken. I gave the shopkeeper a couple dollars and we moved on, with Whitey in the middle of the patrol, proudly carrying his next meal. That dog knew he could get away with anything as long as we were around, you could see the arrogance dripping from him.
What’s worse is when they decide to catch their own food outside and bring it in the house. Trying to catch a hound with a dead rabbit in its mouth at 6:30 in the morning is not my idea of a good time. I was also not pleased by the hound that brought in a skink, bit it in two and then it left on the rug for my husband to step on. Hopefully that hound has learned that skinks are not tasty.
My cat once ate the best part of a whole hot roast chicken one day when my mum had been called away to the phone. She was only gone for about 2 minutes.
We came home one day to find a loaf of bread in a plastic bag ripped into and eaten by our dog Coco.But we couldn’t figure out how she had gotten it, since it had been on top of the refrigerator. A closer inspection of the plastic bag revealed tiny pinprick holes from where our cat Muffin had grabbed the bag to throw it down to the dog…she hated Coco’s guts and was always trying to get her in trouble.
We had a 6 lb cat try to drag a 3 lb, freshly cooked roast out of the kitchen once. Now I know not to let meat “rest” unaccompanied.
I have a two-year-old Shih-tzu-Coton De Tulear mix whose only talents are looking cute and getting into trouble.
Once he managed to hop up onto a chair, hop from the chair onto the dinner table, knock a tray of fudge brownies (with a closed lid) off the table and onto the floor, in the process causing the lid to pop off and allowing him to begin eating said brownies. This all took place in the less than five minutes my wife and I had left him alone in the room. (Well, alone except for our other dog, a 3-year-old Shih-tzu-Bicon Frise mix who just goes and hides whenever his “brother” is causing trouble".)
Luckily we always keep hydrogen peroxide on hand to induce vomiting, just in case our oh-so-clever pet decides to eat poison. The dog was fine. The brownies, not so much.
Is there such a thing as a dog, cat, or ferret that won’t steal food?
The lady who taught puppy behavior to my dog claims her family can watch TV with plates of food on the floor and her dogs in the room. 
Could that be because the dogs knew that she was serving up those dogs who tried to steal food?
A few years ago I had a house guest that had two dogs. I had just come back from the store, where I had received a big homemade brownie for donating to some charity. I put the plastic-wrapped brownie down on my kitchen counter, and in a flash, one of his damn dogs stood up on it hind legs and took it off the counter and ran away with it.
I was really looking forward to eating that brownie - I’m still pissed at that dog.
That’s what it is. The pets are all hustling us with their manners so that every so often they manage to snag something important like the boss’s pork roast, the state fair pies or the prize brownie. And we want to get mad but we can’t because it’s amazing to us that they even did that because they never do that.
Plus, they’re so darn cute!
My first dog, Chubby, came home with a cow leg. Black & white Holstein, apparently, and still furry.
Of course, this was nowhere as mysterious as the day he went out wandering and came home with a whole spiral-cut ham…
One of my cats once arrived home carrying a freshly cooked, still warm, roast chicken.
My dogDaisy is a thief at times. I was making cupcakes once and while they were cooling, she was eating them one by one, paper and all.
I had to link to Daisy’s picture–she looks so much like Delores’ dog Lucy!