Doggy Kegger Held in Owner's Absence

I've been putting in some really long hours lately. Three days a week, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday I am away at work for over 12 hours. This leaves the dogs alone unsupervised in the house and yard for that time. Tollers with too much time on their hands have been known to get creative on occasion. Mine are no exception.

I should've seen the signals warning me of the party plans. Last week, when I got home at a reasonable hour, I found one of my shoes, the right one, it's always the right one, in the yard. My right shoes often make their way into the yard. I now buy most of my shoes at WalMart because of this phenomenon. It cuts to the core to find an expensive right shoe in the yard. Friday, I found another right shoe, from another pair of shoes under the couch. I try to be careful with my shoes, but sometimes they just come off and then get appropriated.

The keg party did not involve shoes however; it involved blankets. Like many dog owners my living room furniture is covered with slipcovers and blankets to catch dog dirt and hair. On Monday, I came home to find not only the doggy pacifier blanket, but also the blanket which covers the cushion on the living room dog bed in the yard. Not a problem, these are old ratty blankets, which belong to the dogs. I shook them out and returned them to their places of honor in the living room.

Three separate times I ignored the signs that my dogs were getting bored and a doggy kegger was imminent. Tuesday, after twelve and half hours away from home, I came home to the remnants of a party still in progress. I pulled into the carport, tired from the long day and noticed that the dogs did not come out to the yard to greet my arrival.

Hmmm...I wondered if I had forgotten to open the doggy door before leaving for work. I quickly went through a list of the things I had done that morning prior to leaving. When I got to the part where I was searching the yard for my missing right shoe, finally, Ranger came through the doggy door to greet me and I heard whining from inside the house. This brought mixed emotions. OK, I hadn't left them cooped up in the house all day, but why weren't they all coming out to greet the car? This was not a good sign, but at least, I hoped, the problem would not involve shampooing the carpet. I quickly unlocked the door and entered the house.

It was dark, so I didn't immediately see what had happened. I felt Ranger and Honey jumping on me. It's sort of like being hit by a couple of medicine balls, one on each side at the same time. I put down my laptop case and camera case which I had been using as an ineffectual shield against the greeting committee and turned on the lights.

There were down feathers all over the living room, the two blankets from Monday were missing and probably back in the yard. Ceilidh was on the couch chewing on her tennis ball through the slipcover on the people couch, feathers decorating her oh so innocent face. Couldn't I see there was a ball emergency and she needed my help? Sue, also covered in feathers, turned out to be the source of the whining. After all, it was two hours past her normal dinner hour and she was alerting me to her near starved condition from having to wait.

The living room looked like there had been a blizzard indoors. I immediately flashed back to a pillow fight episode of some random 70s sitcom, probably The Brady Bunch. The down throw from the back of the other people couch had been sacrificed at the altar of Bacchus. I really liked that throw...Thank goodness I bought it at Walmart, so I could just pitch the remains instead of patching the shell with Gorilla tape, like I did with the Eddie Bauer comforter the last time there was a dog party at the house.

I can't say they didn't warn me.