Pictured on your left is my oldest Puggle, a handsome three-year-old male whose name is Eddie Haskell. In this image Eddie is hiding under my work desk, and the reason that he lurks at my feet is that he has accumulated portions of five rawhide chew bones, at least three of which came from the other dogs in the house.
For a Puggle like Eddie Haskell this must seem like a vast treasure, and he growls at any dogs who dare to come near his stash. Evidently he chose my desk as his hideout because it also offers him some human cover for his hoarded bones, as the curiosity of other dogs will elicit warning growls from Eddie and an irritated response from me at the minor dog wars that occur in my workspace.
Eddie's behavior is especially curious since he is far from a dog used to deprivation, though I suspect he endured some abuse before arriving at our home a few years ago. The flip side of Eddie's cached wealth, though, is that he must remain vigilant in his efforts to prevent canine interlopers from taking his ill-gotten gains.
There are probably some lessons to be learned by the human beings who read this post, but I am too tired to compose the possible morals to this sordid tale of Canines Gone Rogue.