Yesterday, when I went to go to the lumber yard to get a couple dozen bags of topsoil, I couldn’t find my wallet. It drove me nuts, because I KNOW that I had placed it on the second desk in my office the night before. But when I went there, it was gone. I looked everywhere, and couldn’t find it, and then, on a hunch (since she has already chewed up one wallet and made an attempt on this wallet), I checked under the Morris chair in the spare bedroom where Rosie like to stash her (MY) stuff. And sure enough, there it was. I couldn’t figure out how she was doing it, until now.
As I was sitting here working, Tunch jumped up onto the spare desk, nonchalantly walked over and knocked my wallet onto the ground. In a flash, Rosie shot out from underneath my feet at the desk, picked up the wallet, and took off for the spare bedroom. Tunch just sat there and gave me a “WTF are you going to do about it, fat man?”
I just sat there for a minute, stunned. I think I may have actually said “You gotta be shitting me” out loud, because it dawned on me that if they really are working together, I’m screwed.