This is the first time I've been able to open the website in a while since I had to delete my app. That is a sentence I would never have imagined writing ever before in my short and complicated life with four dogs. I guess I'll keep going while I can.
Two days ago we were getting ready to take the dogs for a walk. All four get hysterical when they discover that is about to happen, and they seem to know almost before we do. They bark, they run down the stairs, then they run back up the stairs. Dexter the beagle is the worst, but they are all at that fever pitch, so called.
Mary is responsible for Frollie, Dexter, and Schuster; I am responsible for Simon. The two dachshunds have to be kept on leads, as they are like Pooh, dogs of very little brain. In any case we were getting ready to drive down to the walking trail, the John B. Stephenson Memorial Trail. We had all four loaded into the car and were about to get in ourselves when we smelled it: someone had pooped in the car. Since Simon sits in the front with me, he was out. It was not Simon. Since Dexter and Frollie are mature, fairly sensible creatures we could rule them out. That left Shuster the Booster! Mary was so angry! Since she was almost hoarse from screaming at them to quiet down in the house, at this point she could only croak her intense anger, but croak she did, as she fetched the stuff to clean it up. Schuster's name was uttered a number of times, and he was threatened with various forms of annihilation that involved removing various body parts in a select order. Shuster of course simply looked mystified, and seemed to wonder why we weren't going. And he stepped in it only once or twice.