Marilyn and I follow lots of those TV procedural crime shows. We anticipate all the cliché lines.
“Stay in the car”
“He was turning his life around.”
“Everyone loved him.”
“No one was supposed to get hurt!”
We usually figure out who the “vics” and “perps” are before the coppers and lawyers find the answer, often before the credits finish rolling. Now, fiction has turned to cold, hard reality in our home. We are the victims. Not the mob, not the cabal, not even some local mokes looking for an easy score.
It’s an inside job and the perps are our DOGS!
They’ll smile, offer constant affection and cheer us up when we aren’t feeling good. But it’s part of their sting.
Food is the motive. Their “jackets” are full of priors. Most are misdemeanors but now they’ve moved up the chain to felony. Bonnie, our beloved Scottie, is the boss. She leads the furry gang in snatches, intimidation, assault (head butting), larceny and perjury.
We’ve tried to turn their lives around with extra Christmas goodies, more fun battles on the love seat and long chats to emphasize our affection.
But Bonnie and her accomplices are food-driven. Nothing we do can stop this furry reign of terror. We don’t want to profile Bonnie because she is black, and we are afraid of possible lawsuits. Perhaps the IA people can check out her background.
Bonnie, clearly driven to revenge, is hell-bent on retribution because … we’ve put her on a diet. Bonnie is relentless in stealing Marilyn’s food. She stalks Marilyn and refuses to back down when confronted. The other dogs make sure Bonnie’s six is protected.
We’ve tried so hard to show them the path to a good life but their crimes are senseless.
Generosity… That was our first mistake.