The dogs had to stay home all weekend and be bored out of their skulls. It was that kind of weekend. A weekend I like to call work.
Which meant when I came home, mayhem. Criminally unexercised dogs running and one in particular, screaming. Because wanted to be RUNNING. Or needs to have THE BONE that OTHER DOG has. Because has not been RUNNING.
Which if I tried to write it sounded out like what monkeyscreaming looks like spelled, I realized that I would be writing in Finnish.
Oioi, olen joskus lukenutkin Team Small Dog -blogia, mutta kiitos että linkkasit tuon hauskuuden! En olisi siihen muuten törmännyt. Naurattaa. Töissä.
Which either means, "I sometimes read the Small Dog Team blog, but thanks to the linkkasit that fun! I would not otherwise have come across it. I laugh. At work."
Or else it means "GIVE ME THE BONE GIVE ME THE BONE AND I AM RUNNING NOW AND THIS SOUND IS YOUR PAYBACK AND YOU WILL NEVER CATCH ME SO HA HA!
Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
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