The enchilada thief

We have a dog. Have I mentioned that before? He's a Chihuahua named Buster, and we think he's pretty cute. He's not the fragile, shaky, nervous Chihuahua you might expect to see under the arm of Paris Hilton or Britney Spears. He's a pretty robust little thing.

Last night I made a new recipe called Enchiladas with Salsa Verde. I'd been looking forward to making these things for a while. It was a lot of work to cook the chicken breasts, shred them up, make the enchilada sauce, and assemble the dish before popping it in the oven. Any time I'm preparing food, Buster is close by. As I blended the onions, salsa verde, cilantro, and garlic in the blender, a small drop fell down to the floor, which he promptly licked up. Then, as I was chopping a red bell pepper, a piece fell and it was gone almost before it hit the floor. I guess by that point Buster knew he wanted an enchilada.

Angie and I eat dinner on tray tables in front of the TV. That's because we're classy. It's typical for the dog to sit between us as we eat, but he's rarely intrusive. He'll normally just sit there in hopes that we'll give him something. However, something must have snapped in him, because I barely had the first bite in my mouth before the little dickhead grabbed an enchilada right off my plate!

Imagine the little 7-lb. dog pictured above, with an entire enchilada hanging out of his mouth like a folded up newspaper. I was so dumbfounded that it took me a second to react. I reached out with my bare hand and grabbed the enchilada back. It was hot and steamy and it kind of hurt. Little bits and pieces of chicken, salsa, and cheese had already fallen on the couch by this point, and Buster ate every bit before we had time to blink.

Angie was kind of freaking out, saying "Did he just take that off your plate?!" and "Buster, NO!!! Bad dog!!" I however, just put the enchilada back on my plate and continued to eat it. I worked too hard on that damn dinner to let my pint-sized pup ruin it for me.

Even though Buster is of Mexican heritage, his little sensibilities were too delicate to handle all the spices, onions, and garlic he'd eaten. He didn't throw up, but he came pretty close. He was heaving and hacking like it was going out of style.

After getting over the shock of it all, we realized how hilarious the whole thing was. Seriously, if this had been on tape, Bob Saget would be handing us 10 grand right about now. The enchiladas were delicious too, by the way. I'd recommend the recipe.