My husband had gone to the Chinese restaurant and ordered some take out food. When he got home, he put it on the counter and walked away.
Our big German Shepherd got a whiff of that stuff. He decided he wanted some.
He jumped up and grabbed a fortune cookie.
"Daddy!" my daughter said. "Schultz ate your fortune cookie!"
Daddy was not happy.
"Bad dog!" he bellowed. "How am I supposed to read my fortune?"
"Well," I said. "I think you may have to go outside in a day or two and see if can find a little paper sticking out of some doggy business."
Right on cue, the dog passed some gas. Loudly.
Way to go, Schultz.
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