Wifey just walked in the door. This made Buttercup EXTREMELY happy. She was doing her usual "PET ME NOW!!!!" (the dog, not Wifey), and Wifey picked her up. Eventually, I am guessing that Wifey got tired of the usual "I'll hold you puppy" routine, because she went for one of those Eddie Van Halen playing guitar behind the back moves with the living creature in her arms.
THAT is when it got ugly.
Just in case this ever gets introduced in court, I want to make it clear that I saw nothing until I heard the "THUD", and saw Wifey standing over her vanquished foe like Hulk Hogan towering over "Macho Man" Randy Savage at Wrestlemania 8 (or whivever damn one it was), followed by the dog wandering over to the couch with a "I just forgot my parent's" face. I can say no more.
Except this...Wifey is pushing the dog at me saying "She's fine. She's trying to kiss you". And laughing like a deranged axe murderer. The only problem is, the dog no longer knows who or what I am, only that I taste vaguely like ham. Or so I have been told by my Jewish ex-girlfriend in a Dear John note.
PETA, I am innocent.