|Dudley and Daley|
I present Dudley and Daley with their morning bones. Daley hides his beside the bookcase and then hurries back and watches closely as Dudley leisurely gnaws on his. Suddenly, he rushes in, snatches the bone from Dudley's paws, sprints back to the guest room and crawls under the bed. Dudley looks at me, ears elevated: What the....?
Dudley lies on my lap, as he does most evenings, watching television. Daley, who is draped in Bill's lap, looks at us with great interest and then he leaps from Bill's chair to ours, landing on top of Dudley. After extricating himself, Dudley looks at me like a wise old sage: That pooch is a disgrace to dogs everywhere!
Bill opens the door this morning to get the newspaper in the driveway. Daley slips out, takes off down the driveway and sprints up the street as fast as his short little legs will carry him. Relief is written all over Dudley's face: I hope that little whippersnapper NEVER comes back!