I know it seems weird, but my dog exhibits signs of autism. I'll write about it and how I came to this conclusion in another blog, another time later.
I explained to the dogs that I'd be right back and true to my word, I came right back. The house didn't look like a rave happened while I was gone all of 13 minutes either like it did on Tuesday, so that was a good thing. I gave my furry babies treats for being good and now they are taking naps on our king size bed. Yes, it is our bed. My beloved and I got a larger bed when our dogs couldn't fit comfortably on our full size bed with us when we added a 3rd dog to our family 3 years ago. I don't know who does that. Seriously.
My parents dogs are great. They are super effing cute and fun to hang out with, but they aren't my dogs. My dogs listen to me, my parents' dogs don't. Granted, I understand they are still puppy-ish, but I'm used to my dogs coming when they are called and my super psychotically smart Jasper who knows how to help make the frickin bed and throws trash in a trash can (I have witness who can vouch for these tasks).
Besides, who wouldn't want to spend the day with these faces?
Wallo being innocent.
Patchik being sweet.
Jasper playing with his beloved yarn barf.