When I got home, Summer greeted me at the door, wagging her tail. I left the door open so she could go outside if she wanted while I came in to set down my purse and stuff.
On the floor of the kitchen was the butter dish, licked clean. It had only had a smidgen of stuff left in it, so I wasn't THAT mad, but as soon as I said, "OH!" and turned around, she was gone. Out the door, down the stairs, hiding in the carport. I didn't even hear her go. She knew it was bad, but she did it anyway. Little turd.
Then, when I showed her the empty dish and said, "Look what you did!" she peed on the welcome mat at the bottom of the stairs. Luckily, it's rubber.
Yeeesh. You'd think I beat her or something. She's currently curled up at my feet, trying to be the smallest ball of dog she can be.