It was a dark and stormy night

The full moon sighed drearily as the clouds and drizzle dampened her luminesence. Pulling into the drive, I felt a certain stillness about the house, a quiet that disturbed me in a curious manner. Turning the key in the lock, my pulse quickened as a solitary dog wagged to greet me. Grinning with excitement, she danced in happy circles, dizzying herself with the joy that Mama was home. But that joy soon turned to concern...
The long rug that runs from the front door to the kitchen was scrunched up in an unsightly pile. On the floor lay scattered bits of rubbish, carefully chosen for the morsels that remained. A butter dish that once held two softened sticks of rich, creamy goo was licked clean, as was the knife that once graced its edge.
"Ahem," I cleared my throat, ready to scream. Little dawg was still smiling nervously as I quickly scanned the room for the guilty party. Big dawg had hid himself well. He was not in the basement, nor out back. I ascended the stairway with a gentle stride, humming a little tune, hands full of the evidence. I heard a bit of a scurry from my room. Alas, he was not on the bed, in the closet, the bathroom, or anywhere within sight. "Hmmm....", I thought out loud. "If I were a bad dog, where would I be hiding?" Under the bed, perhaps?
BOO!!
He hit his head on the box spring as he tried to find a quick escape. I sat on the floor, taunting him with my gentle tapping of the now-empty butter dish and rattling the paper from the garbage. He lay down in a guilty defeat, eyeing me with a sorrowful pout. I went downstairs to clean up the mess.
Fifteen minutes later, and the pathetic mongrel had slinked his way to my side, begging for forgiveness. Little dawg desperately wanted me to send him away, but I told her he was just a big dumb boy, and we had to overlook things sometimes. She sighed, shot him a look, and wagged her little tail on out of the room.
His greasy kisses were enough to let me know he was sorry. He promised to never do it again. I conceeded that the temptation must have been too great, and I would try to avoid that in the future. He gets no treat tonight, and will be sleeping downstairs, alone.
Like sands through the hourglass, so go the days of our lives.