Wrong dog

It was an honest mistake, based on prior convictions and circumstantial evidence.

The two dogs were nestled in the living room when Simone came downstairs. They got up immediately to greet her, wagging their little tails vigorously.

"What's this?" Simone asked, frowning. "This" happened to be a puddle of indeterminate origin. Save that it had a vaguely yellow tinge to it.

The beige dog continued wagging.

The black dog tucked its tail between his hind legs and backed away.

"Alright, then. Out with you," decided Simone. And she opened the patio door. The black dog raced out.

Ten minutes later, Simone decided the punishment had lasted long enough. She opened the door but the dog didn't come running back. She called the dog. He refused to come near. No number of entreaties convinced the dog to even approach the door.

The 13 year old came down the stairs and asked what was going on. Simone debriefed her.

"It wasn't the black dog," the 13 year old said. "It was the brown dog. I had to use the washroom quickly so I didn't have time to deal with it!"

Uh, okay.... Want a treat, little black dog? Mommy is really, really sorry...