Speaking Of Karma...

I made a birthday dinner for ChaCha last night. We sat around, drank wine, talked, and played with the dawg.

At one point we went upstairs so I could show her something online. We came back downstairs so she can scarf down some more shrimp. But the shrimp were gone, and Murphy was sitting there looking innocent, content, and happy, apparently in the hopes that we would not think twice about the fact that five shrimp mysteriously vanished along with about six tails.

But the shrimp were gone.

The bacon-wrapped shrimp.

The JALAPENO and bacon-wrapped shrimp.

Karma's a funny thing.

Anyway, I was awakened at about 4:30 this morning by a cold nose on my cheek and a soft whimper. He needed to go out. Badly.

I didn't even have to give him an "I told you so" as he was a hurtin' cowpoke. Even after he did his "business," you could tell that he was not enjoying life very much.

Of course you know, he didn't learn a damn thing from this experience.