That is how many times Ray has slurped up the half 'n half that was sitting on the kitchen counter for my coffee. He has gotten so stealthy at it, tiptoeing into the kitchen, gently putting his front paws on the counter without his tags jingling, and lapping the cream out of the little porcelain pitcher without making a sound, that I don't even know he's done it until I go to pour myself another cup of joe and the pitcher is licked clean.
I'm on to him though. If I'm paying attention, I can watch him sneak-walk into the kitchen, after I've exited with my mug of cafe au lait, and catch him in the act.
I yell at him to GO. But secretly, I'm proud of my blind ninja hound.