March 28, 2019

White Dog shook her head. "There is only ONE possibility," she said. "She is the only one fearless enough to touch your stuff and who obsesses over the weirdest things...And she has a history.."

"But WHY?" I asked. "It looks like she either wanted the pencil shavings or my RBG figure. How did she even know either was there?"

We were talking about Bailey, of course. My big baby girl who is curious about everything and tall enough to not be easily thwarted.

I came back into the office after dinner to a desk looking like it had been ransacked. Papers were scattered on the desk and floor, my keyboard was knocked askew, and the pencil sharpener dragged forward.

After a brief search, Steve found my painted rock paperweight at the back of Bailey's sleeping crate.

Tizenegy took up her defense. "Doesn't that seem a little TOO easy? Maybe she is being framed. Besides, look at that face...it just shines with innocence."

From her bed, I heard WD snort...which was exactly what I was thinking.