Day Five, Friday Morning

The alarm goes off. I hit the snooze button, not once, not twice but three times. Nobody moves. There's not a sound coming from the kitchen. The alarm goes off again, and this time, the resident four are up and want to go out. I let them out of the bedroom, and they go tearing down the hall to the kitchen - Buddy sniffs at the barricade, and there are four sweet beagle faces peering out over the top of the wall - jumping and yapping for attention. I slip on my shoes and go over the barricade, to make coffee, and get the girls fed. The girls eat, Tara in the crate and the rest in neutral corners. I let Tara out, pick up the bowls and head for the shower. And just as I'm thinking that mornings are somewhat less eventful than evenings, Pam says that one of the Belles has come trotting down the hallway to the bedroom. Somehow, she's figured out how to climb over the barricade. Pam picker her up and put her back, and there was no second escape. Just the same, I'll need to put the second level back on before we leave for work. I've been feeding the pups in the morning, and Pam has been feeding the resident four. The house looks kind of like we've been hit by a tornado. I leave for work thinking about how glad I am that today is FRIDAY.

Day Five, Friday Evening

I've upgraded the status of the chaos in the house from tornado to hurricane. There is not one shred of newspaper or dropcloth bigger than a dollar bill, and the Belles are sitting in the middle of the mess with the most angelic expressions on their faces. The resident four come charging in the house at full "WE'RE SO GLAD YOU'RE HOME" gallop, arooing as they run. Well, Daisy doesn't exactly "run" - she kind of waddles, but we're working on getting her weight down...

The Belles are waiting impatiently for some attention, barking and bouncing up and down at the barricade. I scoop up Georgia, which sets Dixie into a fit of barking - I can imagine what she's saying "Just WHERE do you think you're taking MY sister?" and "How DARE you take her and not take ME?" Georgia goes outside. I come back for the other three. Dixie and Tara have stepped up their barking efforts. I now notice that Julep is missing.

She can't have gone far - I scoop up Dixie and Tara, and take them outside. Then I start searching for Julep. I hear a very sharp grumpy bark come from the TV room - I look around the corner, and there is Daisy, trying desperately to get away from Julep, who has climbed up onto Daisy's couch. In this case, Daisy's bark is truly worse than her bite. What's she going to do to Julep? Gum her? I rescue Daisy by scooping up a squirming Julep, and put her outside with her sisters. They are now under the supervision of Potsy, who, surprise, surprise, LOVES to play with them. He gets them to chase him across the yard, turns suddenly in a "crouch" position, and lets the girls go tumbling all over him because their brakes don't work so well yet. I am AMAZED. Potsy rolls over, and lets the girls jump on him and tug on his ears and tail. He playfully growls at them, and they crouch and growl back. Then they're off and running again. Who knew? Potsy, the playful puppy sitter! I guess calling him Mr. Grumpypants is out of the question for the time being. Daisy is on her couch, her dignity intact. Buster and Buddy have retired to different couches in various rooms of the house.

I turn my attention to cleaning up the shredded, soggy mess in the kitchen. New dropcloth, new newspaper. I bring the Belles in to feed them, and I have to separate Tara from the rest, because she's more interested in what THEY are eating than in what's in front of her. I'm thinking of calling her Terror instead of Tara. I've broken up some tense moments before they escalated into fights. I remove the food dishes, and I put them back outside while I feed the resident four. The pups are pretty tired by the time I get them settled in for the night, and despite the fact that at several points over the evening they seemed ready to chew each other's ears off, (or worse) they go right into the big crate and fall asleep, a jumble of legs, ears and tails.