While the cornbread cooked, I sliced a tomato and an onion and then went to the living room to watch whatever was on MLB Network. I left the tomato and the onion on the cutting board on the island.
When Priscilla got home from work, I went back to the kitchen to check on the cornbread and more better put things together for supper.
There was no tomato on the cutting board. The sliced onion was there, but the tomato was gone. All of it. It had been a big tomato, but now it was no more.
I’m sure White Dog did it. White Dog searches the kitchen when Priscilla and I are somewhere else in the house. He is a big dog – 85 pounds, standard poodle – and long enough to put his front paws on the countertop and reach his nose to just about everything.
One evening I washed several medium (three-inch) potatoes as specified for a recipe and then decided those were too many for Priscilla and me. I put three on a paper towel to dry on the countertop. When Priscilla and I were eating supper, I heard a chewing noise. I checked. White Dog was in the living room, eating a potato. I took him and the remains to the back porch and then went to get the other two potatoes and put them away.
There were no two other potatoes.
With the great tomato caper, I just sliced another.
White Dog is a healthy dog.