My dog is a cheesehound

If you haven't already met Holden, our family dog, here he is, in a picture from his birthday last year. Note his skillful disguise as a well-behaved pet.

Don't believe his innocent face. He's lying.

Yesterday, I bought a fist-sized hunk of Truffle Tremor, an amazing goat cheese from Cypress Grove Chevre, the folks responsible for Humboldt Fog and many other fine cheeses. Jennie had discovered this cheese at a local store and turned me on to it. Though expensive--my chunk cost thirteen bucks--it was such an amazing blend of velvety goaty goodness and truffle overtones that I plunked down the cash without hesitation and took it home for a Monday night taste test.

We put it on the counter tonight, sampled it, and agreed Jennie was right: it was amazing.

I then left with Scott to play ping-pong. (He had warmed up earlier and so kicked my butt. Most days, we're a pretty even match: though his skills exceed mine, I win more than I lose because I keep my emotions in better check during the game.)

Holden wolfed down the cheese.

When we realized it was gone, he was on his pillow, licking his paws. When I called his name in alarm, he looked up and belched. Then he smiled.

This is a whole lot funnier now than it was then.