Yeah. Every day for the last week we've been finding joyfully smelly surprises in the house. We've restricted his space with a baby gate, hoping to catch him in the act but he slinks away and craps his way right into my bad books. So now he's literally attached to my waist. For the last couple of days he's been tethered to me by his leash and it's been working but honestly, it's a pain to cook with him literally underfoot. But I guess it's better than the alternative being underfoot...
I'm sorry I just realized I'm talking about the dog again. You know, I'm realizing that this mutt may be my last chance to not mess up a living being in this house. So you know what? You guys are going to have to deal with me talking about Wesley for a little while longer.
|Peace out, y'all!|