To add insult to injury, anytime Sammy breathes on me I smell barbecue sauce.
He's been given lots of white bread and we're hoping all the bones disintegrate into nothing. My husband jokes that each time Sammy jumps onto the bed it sounds like he's rolling dice.
I should have known better than to leave the ribs on the dining room table. I know Sammy jumps and grabs things from it. When I noticed he wasn't with me I should have investigated; I know the only thing that keeps my shadow away from me is food.