Day Eighteen Thursday - AM/PM

I awake this morning to a plunger-like sound, which means only one thing - someone is about to barf. I am instantly awake. I snap on the light, looking from dog to dog to see who's about to lose it. I grab the towel off Georgia's crate and turn to step right in a puddle of barf. Blech. I cover the spot with the towel. By now, Georgia is whining to get out of her crate. I open the crate door, and she dives out against me, knocking me backwards. I lead everyone down the hall to go outside, and out the go, arooing the whole way.

This Fun Police role is getting a bit old. If I had a nickel for every bark, I'd be a VERY rich woman. Maybe I could take Buster to an adoption day?

I've been yelling a lot of useless commands lately - like "Don't WALK on ME! If only I'd taught my beagles not to get on the furniture! Or, "Don't PEE on THAT!" - aimed at Daisy who pees on the throw rugs in her most defiant moments, and Georgia, who hasn't quite got the hang of the housebreaking thing And then there's the "THAT is NOT a CHEW TOY!" - also aimed at Georgia, who stole Pam's eyeglasses off the coffee table, and proudly carried them to her favorite spot for a good chewing. Good thing I caught her! There's also "Did YOU do this?" This is particularly useless in a home with multiple dogs. It's almost impossible to prove who did what. Out in the yard, or on a walk I yell "Don't EAT that!" - "Don't step/roll in that!" - At least I keep my neighbors entertained. Out in the yard, Hunter heads for the fence and is barking at something I can't see. It reminds me of the last Beagle Camp, in which Buster discovered why some turtles are called snapping turtles. I went outside the fence that afternoon in my shorts and T-shirt, with sweatsocks and boots on, armed with a towel, a bucket, and a stick. I was quite a sight as I looked for, and didn't find the turtles. I hope my neighbors let me forget that soon. I can just imagine them sitting by their windows wondering what will happen in my back yard next. Hunter keeps barking at something. I sure hope he doesn't take this bad habit home with him, or he'll never get to come to Camp ever again.