There I was, minding my own business, walking from the back of the house into the room with the TV and fire place thingy, when I spotted it. Right there on the thingy where the Woman usually puts her feet, placed perfectly upon a paper towel, was a warm, butter-slathered English Muffin.
Now, clearly there was no person there consuming the perfectly placed, butter-slathered English Muffin, so obviously it was up fro grabs. And I didn't want to eat it, I just wanted the butter.
So I walked over to it and then jumped up on the thingy where the Woman usually sticks her feet, and began to lick that warm, melted butter, getting my tongue into all the nooks and crannies to make sure I got it all.
Then I heard her.
"Just what do you think you're doing?"
First, I wanted to know where she came from. She was not in the room, so that means the muffin was not hers. Then all I wanted to know was, basically, what she wanted. A bite? Hell, she could have the whole thing when I was done with the butter part.
She sighed hard and then said, "Well, that was my fault for leaving it there."
Yes. It was.
She picked it up--I wanted to grab her hand and stop her but I know better--and then she held it out and said, "Go ahead, lick a little more."
So I did.
It was kinda sad when she threw it away, but by then I was done with it, so all is okay.