Coffee Cream

I'm in trouble again and it's not my fault. 'Her Indoors' shouldn't have left the stair gate, that normally confines me to the kitchen, ajar when she disappeared into her office this morning. When she returned at lunch time, she noticed her error, but as I was lying in my basket, innocently asleep, she was lulled into a false sense of security. Not for long. First she noticed that the contents of the waste paper bin in the study were strewn around the floor, particularly the empty plastic tray from inside a box of chocolates she got for her birthday. Fearing the worst, she scuttled into the lounge to find the originating box of chocolates, which had been irresponsibly left on the floor next to the chair, disembowelled. In fairness, I hadn't eaten many. Unfortunately, in the absence of the little card contents guide, I'd accidentally picked the coffee cream. What's that all about? Still, the fact that I'd been snuffling about in the layer seemed to put her off and the whole lot went in the bin. She could have been a bit more concerned. Doesn't she know chocolate's poisonous to dogs? Not that I was any the worse for my exploits. Anyway, I was only saving her from herself. At her age she should be careful about how many of those she eats. A second on the lips, a life time on the hips. She should be grateful, instead of moaning on at me. Still, if she's had her birthday, mine can't be far away, and if I get treats, I'm prepared to share....