While I was writing my last entry I probably got up 5 or 6 times to open the back door. First the dogs want out. Then they want in. Then the cat escapes and I have to catch him and bring him in without letting the other one out. Then the dogs want out again, because something in the back yard is making them crazy, and the cat escapes again, because sometimes it's a choice between letting him out and cutting his head off with the sliding glass door. Tonight I'm not in the mood to mop up severed cat heads, so I let him play in the back yard for a while. Then I hear the dogs going crazy, so I get up again to go look at they are trying to get the cat to move. The cat has captured a frog. After sufficient barking, the cat lets the frog go and scurries away, while the dogs follow the frog back and forth across the lawn. I let the cat in, the dogs seem fairly well occupied, their heads going up and down with the movements of their new web-toed friend, so I go back to typing.

Then they bark to come back in, so I open the door, type my last sentence, and hit submit. Which is when I notice that Sweet is looking at me forlornly while foam drips from his mouth. I think he tried to eat the frog. I think he regrets it.

Mad dog foam is getting all over the floor, so I take him out front and rinse out his mouth with the hose. After the third rinse he stops foaming and starts trying to avoid the hose, but he's thoroughly wet by now anyway, so I decided to wash him. He's a very smelly dog and washing him is always a good idea. I would have washed Baby, too, but it was dark by then and the mosquitoes were killing me, so I put them both in the garage, one to dry and one to keep him company, and I came to tell you all about it.