I don't really have much to talk about today. I'm sure there were half a dozen funny things I thought of in passing as I drove in today but by the time I got in to work, it was all limp and bland upstairs in my head, much like an unsalted rice cake.

So I figgered I would talk about Malcolm and the time he tried to hatch some chocolate chip cookies. Malcolm is my adorable and sweet chihuahua. He's so freaking cool. He's not like the stereotypical chihuahua; he is mixed with something else; some sort of terrier or maybe even a Chinese Crested. He's got wiry white hair that stands up straight on his head and he is very, very dignified and aloof. He also doesn't bark very much, and he enjoys spending time in his "basket" more than he seems to like cuddling or getting kisses from me. Yet he can be very cute and cuddly when he feels like it. He's like a cat.

About four years ago Trish and I shared an apartment, and one of us brought home a baggie with two or three really tasty chocolate chip cookies from La Madeleine's restaurant. I think it was me. But anyway, the cookies were left on the coffee table in the living room for later eating. They were far enough away from the edge that I knew Malcolm couldn't reach them, so I didn't worry.

I came home later on in the day and saw the cookies were gone. Trish was also gone; probably at work or something. I thought to myself, "Oh, I guess Trish ate the cookies." No big deal. I went out. Later, Trish came home, saw I was gone, and also noticed the cookies were missing. She thought to herself, "Oh, I guess Lisa ate the cookies." No big deal.

But at some point-- maybe the next day, for all I can remember now-- one of us was in my bedroom petting Malcolm as he sat in his basket. He got up, and underneath him was the baggie full of cookies! He had been sitting on the bag for hours on end.

We came to conclusion that Angel, the cat, had knocked the baggie off the table and Malcolm saw his chance to get the goods, so he scooped it up and carried it away to his basket lair. Once there, he didn't try to open the baggie and eat the cookies (we know this because there were no toothmarks on the baggie at all); rather, he decided he'd rather warm them up with his body for some reason. He probably thought he could hatch the cookies.

He is such an unusual little dog. What kind of dog won't eat cookies, given the opportunity? Callie, Tom's dog, will eat anything and everything she can find. (Among her favorites: cucumber, whole carrots, grapes, ice) My old dog, Sam, once cleared out a whole box of Entenmann's butter cookies and I was mad and wanted to punish him, so I put him in the storage room with the empty box for an hour to "think about what he'd done." And I will tell you now: it worked! He was very guilty and sorry after that. Psychological punishments always work best. (Especially with people, for sure.)

Anyway, my point is: I love Malcolm. He rules, big time.