In case I ever tell you I don't hate my dogs,

Call me a liar. Seriously. Every time we're gonna take them to the park, it starts raining. I'm not talking a little drizzle, I'm talking a few days of steady downpours. Because our whole place is carpeted, we don't want to bring muddy paws and bodies into the mix. Well, the pups are going stir crazy. Yesterday was not a good day in terms of my dogs. They almost died, because I almost killed them. We went out early in the day and came home to this:

Yup, that's a hole in the wall that we need to fix. Not only was there this hole, but there was plaster and junk all over the floor. So while I was taking the jerks out to pee, Donald set about the task of vacuuming up said mess. Then we went out again to buy them food (see, starving them would take too long) and came home to this:

That would be a chewed up vacuum cord. It wasn't plugged in so they didn't get zapped. Maybe next time? Today we bought them the biggest rawhide bones we could find. They go through those things like water. One is still on the floor, we think the other one was already finished. At least there aren't any more holes in the wall.

Rain, rain, go away!!