Good Dogs Gone Bad

I had a long day at work today, and it was pretty late when I got in. Knowing my pups would be hungry, I stopped to pick up some of those packages of soft food to mix in their regular dry food as a treat. When they saw me coming up the walk, DM started barking and yipping. LB was waiting faithfully at the door, but no SM. I called for him, but he did not come. I went out to the backyard but still no SM. Then I began to panic. Where could he be? I checked to make sure there were no secret passageways dug under the fence. Finally, I went upstairs to grab my phone to call the pound. Surely he had just gotten out, and since he is micro chipped, I knew I could find him somewhere. When I opened my bedroom door, I was highly unprepared for the scene that awaited me. It was a massacre! The folded laundry that I had intended to put away but was still in the basket when I left this morning was strewn from one side of the room to the other, and my favorite bra had been viciously attacked and killed. All of the pillows were off the bed , the candles on both nightstands were under the bed, and the comforter had been mortally wounded, with its white, fluffy guts spilling out of it from one corner. One of the blinds had a chunk missing on one side and was quickly falling apart, and there was a mysterious trickle leading just a few inches from one bedpost. Lying amongst the chaos was a tiny copper-colored criminal (aka The Red Menace), looking very sheepish and wagging his little nub of a tail. As I stood in the doorway and viewed the wreckage, I was caught between relief and disbelief. What should I do? If I give way to anger, I might end up in ASPCA jail. If I didn't, SM might think this was acceptable behavior. It was quite a dilemma. As I composed myself, I opted to begin cleaning up. All the while, he was army crawling down to the edge of the bed, looking far too cute. As I cleaned, I scolded (and I cussed a little too..okay, maybe A LOT). Then I picked him up, took him downstairs, and put him down at the water dish. As I watched him lap up the water like he'd been stuck in the desert for a week, I decided that he wasn't really to blame. I get up for work at 5am, leave by 6am, and this morning I was rushing so much that I had shut him in the bedroom (I close all the doors to minimize the temptation for the pups to search and destroy) by accident. So really, this was my fault... right? An hour or so later when everything was cleaned up, and I had located an old comforter for my bed, I went back downstairs. As I descended the last few steps, I saw all three of them sitting at the foot of the stairs as if they were waiting for the verdict. Then SM barked at me and ran to his food dish. So, I did as I was "told" and fed the little buggers. Tomorrow I'll be sure to round up the inmates before lockdown. I guess sometimes good dogs do bad things....and it's my job to clean up the mess.