We've only ever had one dog, Kerry, and when she died it broke all our hearts so we never had another.
Kerry had two litters (my mum and dad didn't look after her) and subsequently went a little mad.
One of the funny stories we still talk about was when Kerry went surreptitiously into the kitchen and helped herself to cornflakes. Yes, she got the milk out of the fridge and...
No, seriously, she knocked the packet off the kitchen table and must have nudged it under, in and out of the chairs, until she could get her head wedged in far enough to get the corn flakes.
Having no opposable thumbs, she couldn't pull the box off, so ended up standing under the table, unable to turn her head or move backwards because every time she did so, she banged against the chairs.
We estimate she must have stood stock still like that for over an hour, effectively in "jail", with the cornflakes box jammed onto her head, until we went into the kitchen to make a cuppa and found her.