I was a bad, bad boy

Last night I went downstairs with Momma to discuss dinner with Dad. For some reason, I wanted to play "King of the Mountain" and hopped up on Dad's pool table. They stood there stunned while I did a few laps on it before they told me to get off it.

When Momma took me downstairs this morning to take this picture. I did it again. I foresee a "talk" with Dad tonight.

Years ago Dad built a pocket gate to keep any future dogs from being able to run up and downstairs between the two levels of our house. Since I have a tendency to find things downstairs and stash them in our room for destruction later, this gate is usually closed.


Later last night Momma noticed that I was not in the living room with them so she checked to make sure the gate was closed. She did find me in the hallway with a new "chew toy".
These were Momma's favorite yard raking, poo patrol, snow shoveling boots. She keeps them in the foyer which is on the other side of the gate. Guess she's the poo monitor for the next few days to make sure that everything is still processing.


I think I'll try to stay out of trouble for the rest of the day,
Brice, the Duke of Destruction