These stories remind me of the time I bought a gravity-fill dry food feeder for the cats. It was before I had as many cats as I have now; I think I had three then.
I place feeder full of food on kitchen floor. The next morning, I come in to discover that Gweniever didn’t want that old stale stuff on top, oh no! The feeder was surrounded by mounds of food as she had dug all of the food out of the feeder.
Looked very pleased with herself, too.
My best friend’s dog tries to eat my combat boots every time I go over there. She hasn’t had any success yet.
The english sheepdog that the Sheckstress walks on weekends used to have a little stuffed sheepdog we called his baby. It got so bad that if he had another toy in his mouth when we arrived, he’d drop it and go for Mini-Him if we told him to get his baby.
Oh, and he used to hide his biscuits everywhere in the house, but only for 20-30 minutes, when he would get hungry and try to find them all.