One evening after Bob and I had gotten home from work, he was in the kitchen making sandwich. At this time we were still living in the mobile home, where the kitchen was less than ideal. The counter space was very limited, and the height of the countertops seemed shorter than what is probably standard in a normal house. This, of course, was great for Charlie. He could easily smell everything on the counter without having to hardly tilt up his head.

While Bob was in the kitchen, Charlie was with me down the hall in the bedroom. All of a sudden, he raised his head in the air and sniffed like he had just caught whiff of something very interesting. He immediately left the room and headed towards the heavenly scent that had grabbed his attention.

Bob had pulled out one of those 5 lb, flattish hams with the rounded ends that always kind of remind me of a football. It was on a cutting board, sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter.  Bob had cut several slices, but then left it sitting there while he walked to the edge of the kitchen to watch something that was on the TV in the living room.

While Bob’s back was turned, Charlie walked right up to the ham and grabbed the biggest chunk off the counter. As if it was perfectly acceptable for him to do this, he carried his prize into the living room and sat down to eat it. He was so smooth in his motions that Bob didn’t hear anything at first. But all of a sudden he yelled out, Hey, that’s my ham!

I walked down the hall into the kitchen a few steps behind Charlie, and saw him with the hunk in his mouth just as he was heading around the couch. As soon as I realized what was going on, I couldn’t help but start laughing. He acted so casual about the whole thing.

Bob ran around the couch, telling Charlie to drop the ham, which surprisingly, he did. Bob reached down and grabbed the chunk of meat, trying himself not to laugh, while explaining to Charlie that it was not his ham. Fortunately, Charlie didn’t growl or attempt to bite Bob as he picked it up.  He just turned up his head as if he was looking at Bob and saying, What? You’re not even going to share?  The expression on his face was a priceless mix of surprise and disappointment.

Bob was able to salvage most of the meat. And we both learned that we needed to pay more attention to the big dog in the small kitchen, especially when there was food out on the counter. Charlie’s never done anything like that since, but that’s not to say that even today, he won’t put his nose up on the counter to take a good whiff.