If you should ever wander over to the Hudarosa for a drinky-poo, after all canine chorus has deafened you and we are settled in for a few laughs, you will turn and be greeted by this sight:
Ah! Carmen! Somebody call Miss Manners and ask if this is appropriate enough for her with all of Carmen's lady bits exposed for your viewing pleasure. Surprise! Carmen is a dog. A dog who appreciates airing out her junk in public on expensive Persian carpets. Sigh.
I have no idea how to keep her out of the trash cans. She shops them every single night, spreading the debris she doesn't care for about the bathrooms and hallways. I can't express how delightful it is to get up in the night and return to bed with a Q-tip clinging to the bottom of your foot. Sweet.
At least she sneaks around to eat poo. Part of her is polite. The small part that knows being caught doing that will land her in detention. Argh.
We have had to barricade the pantry. She broke through several plastic containers filled with bricks, a maze of recycling containers and a broom booby trap. In desperation, Hud put the dog food into a wooden crate and closed the hasp to seal it away from her allergic self. And now, I have pushed it across the doorway to the pantry to deny her access to the Tootsie Poos *Now with Litter Crunchies!*. Ugh.
I'm thinking of having her pen an etiquette manual for dogs.
