Sigh. Our little furry gal Juno is in the doghouse again.
Technically, she's not IN the doghouse. The big dogs have taken it away from her. So she's moved her bone collection to the front porch, now blocking the front door instead of the kitchen door. Juno sleeps under the bedroom window of Genius, exposed to the elements. Which hasn't been too bad this winter.
Farmer H hurried off to town this morning, most likely to have a breakfast buffet at a local bar. You know, the bar he only went to once, but he's been there twice. I don't even want to try and understand that logic again. But that bar is right next to Casey's, the convenience store where he buys gas. And soda. And forbidden donuts, too, if The Pony and my sticky steering wheel can be believed.
When he returned to the Mansion, he parked over by the BARn. To hear him tell it, he set down his soda (a 20 oz. bottle of Diet Mountain Dew) and set about loading or unloading a set of steps that he had found along the highway. Don't let's go there now.
Farmer H went back for his soda, and it was gone. But Juno was laying in the field, chewing on something. Green. Farmer H discovered that Juno had taken his soda. And he had the nerve to be surprised. Has he not acclimated to adopting a dog without a conscience? Anything she can reach is fair game for Juno.
Why, he might as well have set a dozen donuts on the table of the teacher workroom, and expected some to be left when he came out of the bathroom!
I think Juno and Farmer H both need to be signed up for continuing education classes.