Mid-night madness

Chiantra's total for the past four days:
-1 ziploc bag of powdered baby formula
-1 box of Baby MumMum crackers, foil packages included
-1 tube of concealer

Let me tell you what happens when a dog eats a bag of powdered baby formula. First of all, formula is very sticky so when mom comes down at 5 am to make a bottle for crying baby she wonders not only why Chiantra is skulking guilt ridden by the front door but also why her feet seem to have resistance when lifting them to put one in front of the other on her way to the kitchen. Am I just so tired that it is seeming hard to walk or...wait there is a more granular feeling to the tile floor than would seem normal.
"Hmmm, damn dog, what did you do now? Who cares I will find out in the morning"
But as I round the corner to the kitchen and see the glittering of foil wrappers in a trail leading to the dog bed Iknow. "Not the brand new box of MumMums!"
And there in the bed, lying amid the shrapnel, completely oblivious and fast asleep is Kusa. Obviously not the guilty one or he would be running to hide his sorry self when he saw me. He just laid there wondering why I was staring at him with that evil look in my eye. You see, a dog will announce his guilt, you never have to wonder. That is why when I went over to the front door to confront the bitch, as we so lovingly refer to her at times, I knew I was going to be beating on the right dog. Yes I knew because of that guilty look in her eye, the tail hanging, her not wanting to face the scene of the crime and thus hiding out as far away as possible. My finely tuned dog detective senses were confirmed by the fact that all the fur on her face was caked into one white hardened clump. So yes, there are multiple ways to find the guilty culprit even in the dark of the early morning.
It wasn't until later that I found the empty ziploc bag and my husband went to use the toilet later that morning that we realized one gets very thirsty when eating enough formula powder to make a few litres of milk. So Chiantra made her own milk, reconstituted in vitro with eau de toilette, and then a few hours later made another kind of milk on the sidewalk right in front of someone's house. Projectile pooh is hard to dodge while jogging but I am skilled with the stealth of a cat. What I am not so skilled at is picking up liquid with my hand wrapped in a plastic grocery bag. So sorry dear neighbors.