I spent a wonderful few days at my grandpa Steve and Michele's house up in Westminster while my mom and dad worked all weekend. I got to play with my bunny and raccoon, ate peanut butter and krunchies out of my kong, tunneled under the covers in the middle of the night and kicked Michele out of bed, stole Poppy's toys, slept in Poppy's bed, and genuinely had a grand ol' time.
When my mom and dad left for work this morning, they made a fatal mistake. They left my "overnight bag" out on the counter. Yup, the bag with all of my goodies -- my toys, my food container, my empty kong, my stuffies, my leash and collar, and more importantly . . .
the peanut butter jar for my kong.
Well, don't look at me. The goose did it. I swear.
I'm sorry Mom, I really am. But how was I supposed to know that I shouldn't eat it. It was pretty clear that the jar was meant for me.
Look, the lid clearly says: