No, I don't have a Dennis around here. But I have a Farmer H.
With only Farmer H and me around the Mansion these days, it's pretty obvious who the culprit is when things go awry. Just ask me! Oh, he still tries to deny his shenanigans. But he doesn't have a leg to stand on. And I don't have a chair to set on. My groceries, that is.
We have a mesh metal patio chair on our side porch. Most often, it rests in front of Gassy G, the auction grill. Since Farmer H only grills once in a blue moon these days, and since I no longer have The Pony to carry in my groceries every week, I moved that chair over by the rail for the porch steps. That way, I can put my grocery bags on there, and Jack and Juno don't walk all over them, or get tempted to nose around in there. Not that my Sweet, Sweet Juno would do such a thing. But Puppy Jack might. He's inquisitive.
By setting my grocery bags on that chair, I can go back to T-Hoe for more, and pile them on. Then I make one trip up the steps, go unlock the kitchen door, and come back a couple times for my purchases. WITHOUT going down and up the steps several times. Anybody with sore knees knows what a big deal this is. I'm looking at YOU, Madam. The newly-knee-challenged.
Today I came back from town, having traipsed around Country Mart looking for snacks for Farmer H's upcoming jaunt to Oklahoma
I had the two bags hooked over my arm, and an 8-pack in each hand. BUT MY CHAIR WAS GONE! Okay. It wasn't GONE, gone. But it was way over by Gassy G. I couldn't reach it from down on the sidewalk. So I had to set down my sodas and go up the steps and into the Mansion to put them down. Then come back out to get my purse and 44 oz Diet Coke from T-Hoe. Then take them into the Mansion. Then come back to the porch for my sodas.
If my holding chair had been where I left it, I could have piled the stuff on it from the sidewalk, gone back to T-Hoe for my purse and soda, carried them up the steps and inside, then come back onto the porch for the snacks and soda. Easy peasy. Instead, I had an extra trip up and down.
The dogs didn't mind! They got a flat chew treat of some kind that I found in the laundry room before I left, and a handful of cat kibble when I came back out for the soda.
Upon interrogation later in the evening, Farmer H denied moving the chair since grilling on Sunday, even though I know I used it for holding my Save A Lot box of groceries on Monday.