We were late to church yesterday. After we had all gotten ready, I reached for the keys to unlock the front door, and they were not there on their little hook! Bad keys! We began to look, since we could not get out without them. We searched the upstairs, the downstairs the kitchen and even outside where I sometimes leave them when I go out back to feed the dog. As I stood in the kitchen, praying and frustrated, a thought came to me. I saw outside some of the items that were on my washing machine on the ground. Hmmm. How did they get there? Would my idiot dog possibly thing jingling keys were fun to play with? Sure enough, twenty minutes after church had started, I found the keys near the back of the yard by the wall. Along with several of my washcloths. Bad Dog!
I like the dog, I really do. If she survives to adulthood, when she will theoretically be less trouble, it will be a miracle, because I really want to strangle her about three or four times a week.
1 comment:
Ditto! only my dogs are not puppies anymore and I still want to strangle them :{
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