There's no denying it, I have a naughty dog.
Over the years she has done many things to make me question why I love her so much, like jumping the fence just so she can roll around in sheep poo or the time she ate through her lead after I tied her up outside The Warehouse and came in store to find me.
She can open doors and windows, and is always eating things she shouldn't.
Many times she's been caught lurking around the cat's litter tray sporting a very guilty look and suspicious smelling breath.
We've had kids' toys chomped to bits and baking mysteriously disappear overnight. A couple of days ago I came home to find she had eaten the entire half kilo packet of bacon I had defrosting on the bench for dinner.