Ollie, the beast, has been boarded with his doggie daycare lady for the past ten days while we were enjoying a cruise during October travel week. It's the perfect set up - he already knows her since he goes to daycare three times per week and he gets to lounge about in her house with the family (and family dog Gracie, the black lab) instead of in a kennel run all by his lonesome.
The day before we departed, I was sitting on the couch counting out the money I had ordered. The teen was taking a separate school trip to Italy for her senior humanities class, and so I had to dole out some spending money for her, too. I had just finished paperclipping the teen's money when the dryer buzzed. I hopped up to go shake out the clean clothes and get them folded before they wrinkled. Upon my return to the sofa, Ollie quickly jumped off and scurried beneath the coffee table.
It seems he was wise enough to leave the scene of the crime, though it was obvious he was the guilty party. Because I had the coffee table pulled a bit closer to the sofa than usual to more easily count out the money, this also meant that the beast could easily reach its contents. And that's how he helped himself to the teen's stack of travel money and did the following to it.
That's right - he tore up €90 and £20 of it. Still within arm's reach, I swatted his furry terrier hindquarters and started in on the shaming. Bad, bad dog. Since he seldom does anything to receive a good dressing down, he tucked his tail between his legs and decamped to his kennel adjacent to the laundry room. He wisely remained there for about 15 minutes until I quit stomping around swearing.
I picked up the remains of the torn bills, straightened out the money that had been mouthed but not ripped and then panicked because I couldn't find the paperclip. Had the little twit eaten it? Great, just great. After imagining sky high vet bills if he needed emergency surgery while we were gone to remove the paperclip that would no doubt perforate his gut, I decided to do a more through search. Thankfully, I found it beneath the sofa.
In hindsight, it was rather humorous. I emailed the above pic to my husband and he told me that I need to save the pieces and take them to the bank to be exchanged for intact ones. Too bad I can't drag Ollie in there by his ear like the naughty furry child he is and make him explain the situation to the bank folks.