Completely unprepared for chaos, I turned the key and opened the front door and was immediately tackled about the ankles by nine and a half pounds of very excited, very anxious, and very proud of himself daschund - the very same nine and a half pounds I was reasonable sure I'd left in a kennel that very morning.
It appeared that he'd done some redecorating - the bed had been unmade, the sofa pillows rearranged, a wastebasket was upended and there were indications that he'd tried to clean out the guest room closet. He raced around like a wind up toy, showing off all he'd accomplished, obviously pleased with himself, right down to the tell tale wet spot on the carpet. I told myself that too much time had passed for him to be scolded and make the connection but the truth was that I didn't have the heart to punish him and spoil his moment. I let the other dogs out of their kennels and we all went out to the back yard - they went about their business calmly and routinely, while he rushed around the perimeter a half dozen times like a tiny whirling dervish and finally crashed at my feet.
Although I still suspected a fine feline hand in all this, I had no proof and the cats weren't talking - I didn't like it but reasonable doubt prevailed and I had to make room for the possibility that I hadn't completely secured the kennel latch. A careless moment perhaps or my sub conscious at work, I wasn't sure, but there was no real harm done and the little one had had himself a fine morning.
This is life with dogs - a little chaotic, a little loud, and a whole lot of love.
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