Bailey ate two-thirds of a PowerBar today. That's about a gazillion calories and a major caffeine hit. I wish she hadn't but she did. She found it in my bike stuff in the shed.
I expected her to a) run around chasing her tail for 24 hours or b)
vomit, but right now she's crashed contentedly on the floor. We'll see
what transpires...
Twice a day, there's a race against time in the household: loading and unloading the dishes.
The dishwasher is one of Bailey's true passions and definitely a highlight of her day. At the sound of the machine door opening, she'll rouse instantly from the deepest sleep, bolt up the stairs (she lives mainly in the basement area) and in a nanosecond she'll have her tongue amongst the dishes, dirty or clean.
It's disgusting. But no matter that 9 times out of 10 she gets shooed away or forceably held back - there's always a tiny chance of tasting someting exotically human, and that's what keeps her going.
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