If you thought that maybe a dog couldn't feel guilty about something, I think you're wrong.
It got really quiet in the kitchen a few minutes ago. Mark had gone down to the basement and Sam quietly disappeared. I had a hunch that he might be in the kitchen so I went in there.
He was in the kitchen, trying to figure out how to get up on the counter (not an easy feat) and get at the leftover barbecue that was cooling in a container.
When I spotted him, I said nothing. He turned and looked at me and started to do his "hey I'm dancing on my hind legs" dance and then sat down, smiling and wagging his tail.
I guess it just smelled too good to resist.