She wanders into my room, stands there, looks at me with those “I’m so innocent” brown eyes of hers. I greet her with a “Hi, pup!” as if she’ll talk back. She looks to the right, spots my shoes. She looks back at me. We both know what she’s planning. She inches closer… closer still. “Friday,” I say in that low warning voice that does absolutely nothing. “Don’t even think about it, pup.” She looks at me once more. Those eyes… pure love and devotion. It only takes her a split second to snatch my shoe between her teeth and scamper away. I sigh. Chasing is futile. Damn dog is quick. And “drop it!” apparently means “run faster!” Later I’ll find a small pile (my shoes, socks, and whatever else she managed to grab) in another room. The shoes with laces untied, but otherwise undamaged. (She cries while chewing on her squeaky toys.) I bring everything back. And we play again.