The Mystery of the Missing Soap

I'll give you a clue.

The dog, yes Truman, about scared me to death last night.

The boys were winding down, our nightly routine of showers, brushing teeth, and getting tucked snuggly into bed was in full effect.  I paused for a minute in between the kids bedrooms to tidy up their bathroom.  I walked in, wiped up the counter (Isaac spilled mouthwash), put the toilet lid down (BOYS!) and started to straighten up the shower curtain when I heard a noise.

Without really being able to identify the weird noise, and exactly where it was coming from, I didn't hesitate at all in adjusting the shower curtain to my liking.  Then all of a sudden the curtain moved and Truman was jumping out, right at me, nearly leveling me to my knees.  Why on earth was the dog, in the bathtub?

He was thirsty you see.

Oh Truman.
My love for him runs deep.

Ever since I discovered William Wegman many, many years ago, I've loved the Weimaraner breed.  I always wanted one, and dreamed about being one's person.  I too always imagined that his name would be Truman.

And well, that obviously came true.

The breed is interesting to say the least.  They are strong.  And stubborn.  And smart.  Very athletic and quirky.  He reacts in silly ways to funny noises and barks at himself in response to his reflection - be it a mirror or the glass in the back door.  He'll bark his fool head off at something outside while he's inside but the slightest bark from a neighboring dog or an unfamiliar noise while he's out in the backyard?  Makes him retreat to the back porch in complete fear - as fast as a lightening strike.  It's quite hysterical.  He loves to run off leash and is in his element when we take him hiking.  We play hide and seek with him and without fail, every single time, he sniffs us out.  His nose is by far the coldest dog nose I've ever felt.  Oh and did I mention he snores and likes to perch himself in, odd places?

Without a doubt I'm smitten with this dog.  And as many times as I'm cursing him under my breath, I love it when he tries to prove to me that he's indeed going to be a lap dog whether I like it or not.

He's my companion and I am his.

Today while I was slogging away at work, in my home office, I noticed that Truman wasn't laying in the patch of sun on the living room floor like usual.  He wasn't at my feet either.

I called for him and he eventually came, but I really never gave it much thought as to where he could have been. Or what he was up to for that matter.  He's like a kid, that dog.

This evening shortly before dinner was ready, Isaac brought it to my attention that the dogs water dish in the laundry room had run dry.  I refilled it and they happily drank.

Later on when the kids went to shower, their soap was missing.  I told them where to find more soap so they could shower and then?

The light bulb went off:

Earlier today when Truman was MIA, he must have been in the bathtub again.  He must have been trying to find water because his water dish was empty.

SEE!  Smart dog.

And also?
He apparently indulged himself by eating a bar of soap.
Okay, maybe not so smart, but cute?  Yes?
Damn dog.

I sure hope he doesn't fart bubbles.