The other night my wife gave our puppy a dingo treat. He loves those things and chewed on it for quite a while. Instinctual preservation being what it is, he only ate part and sought to save the rest. As I worked at the computer Barkley came in and jumped on the futon in my office with slimy dingo in tow.
I mainly use the futon as a closet, a fact that drives the wife nuts – not nuts enough to put the laundry up for me (which she shouldn't and I don't expect). So I tend to the let the laundry accumulate and just get my undershirts, underwear and socks from the futon. I'd ask you to guess how far away my chest of drawers is, but it wouldn't make me look good.
So the dog perches atop the laundry and proudly assesses the scene. He then turns and paws at the clothes until he makes a hold of sorts. The dingo gets dropped between the clothes and the back of the futon. He then uses his paws and nose to hid his treausre with my laundry.