Shh, wait until our humans go away ....

three dog tug

Our living room had muddy paw prints on window sills, dog drool on all candy bowls and half-full cans of soda. It was just a big party trash can. Without human limitations, our two young Vizlas, Dusty and Abby, had found a calling in organizing illicit galas for local animal individuals. How many dogs, now sporting an alias, had sat in our doorway as lookouts, to warn said party of our coming back?

Dusty had brought all my socks into our living room for a tug-of-war sporting affair, making him a star in a unanimous opinion of his dog buds. Cops driving by thought such loud barking was abnormal. By calling us back from our out-of-town trip, any additional partying was put on hold.