Skipper has the strangest new habit that is definitely going to get him in the big trouble. It's only a matter of time before Gracie finds out what he's been doing. I've already warned him to stop, but he's stubborn and just ruffs at me to leave him alone. So I will. I'll just go snooze on the sofa until our friend gets home and throws a fit.

The shoe laces were dragged across the floor and the shoe was flopping around behind. Skipper trotted around the sofa, battering the poor sneaker into submission. There was still enough of it left to know that it was an older sneaker, probably one of the ones Gracie won't miss very much. But there are plenty of others that might get our friend's hair in a ruffle. I already took a peek in the closet and saw what's happened. Maybe one could argue that Gracie shouldn't have left the door open this morning. Maybe she was in too much of a hurry and it's her fault that Skipper even had access to all the things. Oh well, it won't matter when Gracie discovers his mischief.

"You better cut it out," I grumbled and rolled over to stuff my face into the coolness of the pillow.

The sneaker continued to bop around on the floor as Skipper became more aggressive with his thrashing. Eventually he'd start smacking it against things and break one of the other flower vases. Might as well make it two for the week.

I was almost about to start dreaming about chasing squirrels in the park and then the sneaker bopped me. I spun out of my comfy spot and growled at Skipper. My little annoying friend was just grinning with that lace in his mouth. He'd done it on purpose for sure and now he must pay the pupper.

Skipper couldn't run that fast with the shoe dragging behind him. It was slowing him down and I was going to catch up with the quickness. Which thing I did in a single pounce. Of course he had to yelp and whine about how much I'd hurt him. He wasn't hurt...just his pride maybe.

My pounce didn't stop him from his mission to destroy the sneaker though. After realizing that Gracie wasn't here to console his wounded spirit, he went right back to attacking the walls with the shoe, bopping and bumping everything he could find. The poor sneaker was bouncing around helplessly as it was thrashed into tattered shreds.

Eventually the lace gave out and Skipper had to go find another one. Hopefully it would be the matching one so the trouble won't be so deep when he gets into it. It wasn't. This time it was a whole boot, a hefty one too because it bumped and thumped along as it was dragged into the sofa room.

"Put it back," I warned, "That one looks pretty important."

"Naw," Skipper ruffed back as he tried to get at the laces, "It's a silly one and it has to go too."

And that's when Gracie walked in on us. We didn't even hear the keys jingling because of all the arguing. Now, Skipper was busted, or so I thought. You see, it turns out that possession is what gets all the blame put on whoever has the thing they aren't supposed to have. And my little sneaky friend is quick. Boy he's quick!

I'd turned to greet our friend and tell on Skipper, but not before this little rascal had flung the boot right under me, which isn't what Gracie saw. All she saw was that I had the boot and there were tattered sneakers laying everywhere. So it turns out that I was getting the blame for the whole thing...and I'm the one who tried to stop it in the first place! You know what, if Gracie hadn't even left in such a hurry this morning, none of this would even have happened. So I blame her. It's her fault. She should have just stayed home with us and we could have done fun things. Instead, I'm in the trouble and none of this is my fault at all. Fooey.