A short time after I came to live with the Old Guy the “Trash Incident” happened. I was blamed for it all … during and after the clean-up. Along with the continuous fussin’, I got a thirty minute “Time Out” which was served on the front room couch. The Old Guy was quite animated about the whole affair and kept reminding me “Not to get off that Couch!” I also heard “Bad Dog” repeated a lot.
Late that same evening, well after my Time Out was served, the trash was found to be in a tall kitchen container sitting up off the floor. I suppose with these new insurmountable precautions, whoever got into the last trash bag won’t be able to repeat their stealthy performance. I know it looked bad … since I was the only one home that specific afternoon, but the house has been known to shelter mice now and again. When the blame was being pointed out that fact didn’t come up.