When we were first introduced, Thelma politely said, "Hello."
"It's a good thing we rescued her," Papa said.
Mama mentioned, "No telling what would have happened to her, because of her deafness."
("Aha! A rescue," I thought.)
Louise, was equally as cordial and proper with her canine etiquette of "Hello; glad to meet you."
"Awwwwe," Mama said. "They're little angels."
"It's amazing how well-behaved they are," Papa agreed.
(I agreed in thought, "They are sweet little thangs.")
Then when when mama & papa left the room:
Please call an exorcist.
Above, Louise stealthily munches on papa's corral cleaning shoes, while Thelma distracts papa with a smile and wagging stub. "OUCH!" Papa exclaims. Louise vaporizes, leaving me the "dog of interest" at the scene of the crime.
Here they add a nice frayed touch to this expensive Navajo rug:
"Yip, yip, squeak, squeak," puppy for "Goo goo, dah dah." I told them, "I am not your father; but your mother is over there..." and point my nose in Queenie's direction. Queenie snarls out the pet door.
This is one of the run-in-my-sleep nightmares. Please wake me up!