The Perfect Foster

Have you ever heard a sound and known somewhere, somehow, there is a dog who is up to no good?

I had one of those moments tonight. I was hanging out on the couch, surfin' the web, minding my own business, when I hear a crash from the bathroom. Not a loud crash, but it was followed by another crash, then a thud, and then the thunderous sound of Andy running to the other side of the house.

Hmmmm . . .

I go to the bathroom and see that one of the drawers that I keep our collars in has been pried open.

Interesting.

I head in the direction Andy went to further investigate. I find him laying in an out of the way corner, Piper's tie dye collar between his front paws. But he's not chewing on it - instead, I watch him lovingly nuzzle and then gently lick the collar.

"Dude?" I ask, because really, how am I suppose to respond to this?

Andy looks up at me and grins over his treasure. His little nubbin trembles. Andy jumps up, but instead of coming to me, he trots back to the bathroom. He grabs Rubi's bitch collar out of the drawer, runs back to his corner, and places it next to Piper's collar. He repeats the process two more times, claiming four collars before laying down to snuggle with his prizes.

Andy is collecting collars.

Seriously, could this foster be any more perfect?

(Rubi believes all stories should include her, and therefore would not get out of the picture.)