Wreck the Halls

I returned home from my office holiday party on Friday night to find that my stocking, although still dangling from its little hook, had been stripped of each and every one of its adornments. The circumstantial evidence points to my dog, Lucy, as the culprit. She's the only one who had the motive, means, and opportunity (the motive: incorrigible naughtiness).

"Why would you do this?" I asked upon deducing her guilt. "I have been nothing but nice."

She showed no signs of remorse and tried to lick up my left nostril. As I recall, those are the two surest signs of sociopathy.