On Valentines Day, Matt took me to Sushi Roku. Among other seafood delights, he ordered sweet shrimp sushi. What he didn't order were the deep fried shrimp heads. Each with an armada of tentacles. And eyes that were staring at me. But that was nothing compared to the tentacles falling out of Matt's mouth when he took a huge, crunchy bite.

Last night Zero decided to reboard the eating-things-that-just-shouldn't-be train. He was very interested in my dinner, so I gave him one of the olives that I picked off of my pizza. In the process of making funny faces, he dropped the olive on the carpet multiple times, but he eventually got it down. Okay, that wasn't supposed to happen.

"Tawny, would you like an olive?"
"Excuse me? You want me to eat that nasty thing? How about you pet instead?"

At least one dog is sane-ish.

Later that evening, the plot thickened. What used to be a pile of discarded olives had miraculously become three lonesome discarded olives. I considered this odd since olives aren't known to spontaneously combust. Oh look, a small doggie trying to blend in with the floor. The investigation is still pending.