Here's another story from when we lived on the farm. I think about this every time I hear the phrase "adding insult to injury."

One of the many pets we had on the farm was this black dog that just wandered up and decided to hang around. We called him Dog to distinguish him from the dogs we'd acquired on purpose -- our 'official' dogs, Smokey, Spot and Fifi. Of course we did call him Black Dog on formal occasions. He was a friendly dog and we liked him.

One day I was outside eating a Brown Cow. Or a Black Cow. I don't remember exactly what they were called, but it was some kind of chocolate or caramel on a stick that was really chewy and quite tasty. Sort of like a Sugar Daddy. All of which is beside the point. The point is that I was enjoying this candy to the fullest. I was probably moaning in rapture as I ate it.

And Dog was keeping me company, which I also appreciated. He was just sitting by my feet, wagging his tail, being all friendly and doggish. I couldn't have been happier overall. Pretty much all the ingredients that a six year old needs for a happy life had come together. It was a beautiful day, I was outside, I had candy, and Dog was keeping me company.

Then without warning, Dog jumped up and grabbed the candy out of my hand. I was stunned. I was shocked. I was heartbroken. I opened my mouth to cry out at the horror of it all and Dog jumped right back up and licked the very last taste of candy off my tongue.

He licked my tongue. A dog. Not even an 'official' dog. A volunteer dog stole my candy and licked my tongue.

I'm still not over it.