Glory Downs Farm

Glory Downs Farm

Sunday, October 16, 2011

The Young and The Restless.

No I don't mean the soap opera.(which can someone tell me why soap opera's are referred to as "opera's?" I don't see ANY singing, and they are often short on viking men and women belting out their lungs. Is it because of the over dramatized lifestyles and wonderously caked on make-up? Maybe.......)

Anyways- I in turn mean the dogs.
Both Young and Restless when their owners (people who feed them and whom they love to lick and riquoche off of-meaning us) are not home.

Our dogs- particularly Harlem, are incredibly skilled in the art of sleeping. If its raining- sleep. If its cold- sleep. If they played for a solid half hour- sleep. But...they are young, and this means, that they do, at times get restless.


Upon leaving them for a couple hours to go to a friends birthday, we left them resting peacefully in their doggie cubby. ( they have retired their crates and now have two- count them - two doggie beds stuffed into the entryway of our front door. Thus making this nice, pretty, cosy, and reasonably painted dog fort that they have now, own.) Thinking nothing of leaving our resting, boxer dogs of great maturity (mental) we were happy to go out.


When we got home we were greeted by their wagging bums and faces pressed up to the door excited to see us. We stood on our porch for a moment greeting them back (maybe doing the same as them) and admired how sweet and cute they just really are.

Then I turned the key in the lock.
And looked into our living room.

What did I see?

Let me paint a reasonable picture first.

Take a bunch of construction paper, and a Tyranosaurus Rex. Smear bacon grease on the construction paper and wave it in front of Mr. Rex's nose.

Let Mr. Rex at it.

I will now post pictures of our dogs destruction/artwork.

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