Very Guilty

In honour of National PUPPY Day...

Husby and I are empty nesters.

At that point in time, it was a fairly new experience. One that we were enjoying immensely. Maybe because we got all the perks (quiet evenings) with all the blessings (grandkids over daily).
But what we didn't have was a four-footed furry.
Maybe I should explain...
For over thirty years, we raised Old English Sheepdogs. (We love the breed. Smart, loyal, protective, easily trained.
And highly amusing.)
When our last puppy, Aldo, bid us farewell and crossed the rainbow bridge two years before, we decided our 'furry' days were over.
We were truly empty nesters.
Then, that March, our friends got a puppy. An OES cross.
And quite suddenly I knew my own dog days weren't done.
A week later, I was the proud owner of the newest generation of Old English Sheepdogs.
Pandora, but we called her Pandy. Among other things...
Ahem...
She was everything we've come to love about the breed.
And had settled into her own little corner of my heart.
Enough background...
That evening, Husby and I were in the family room, watching the movie 'Dragonslayer'. I was multi-tasking in that I was also working on a puzzle.
Pandy was rousting around, nose to the carpet.
A habit of hers, I must admit.
She rousted herself into Daddy's office.
Now, normally, this wasn't cause for concern as usually, Daddy was in there with her.
This time, he wasn't. (See above.)
I allowed the normal amount of time necessary to wander into the room, realize that your beloved person is not there, and wander out again.
That time had elapsed.
"Pandy!" I called.
She came out immediately.
But the reason for her tardiness became immediately-and painfully-apparent.
And yes, that's an Eat-More bar wrapper stuck to someone's furry face.
I've heard of wearing your guilt.
But never quite this accurately.