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When A Good Dog Goes Wild

Image copyright Fred First
I go away for less than an hour to cut some firewood up the valley. "What could he get into" I say as I think how well Tsuga has learned his way around the house, how responsive he's become to our wishes, how grown up.

Little could I have known that as soon as he heard the truck crossing the creek, he was in the pantry having himself a grand ol' time. And no, he doesn't get in the Milwalkee's Best. He goes straight for the Killians I save for special occasions. Like Wednesdays, for instance. And worst of all, he didn't even bother to chill it and is drinking it right out of the bottle. I thought I'd trained him better than that. What is a father to do?

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Comments

Hey, maybe he just likes his ale at room temperature, like the Brits. He does, however, have excellent taste, and for that you should give him another round.

We can't set down a beer bottle or mug within Harley's reach...he loves the stuff.

I can't believe that Harley is a year old today. He'll enjoy a rib eye for din-din...of course he'll expect another tomorrow. *G*

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