When we don't want the dogs underfoot (they're muddy, they're wrestling, we're eating something super tempting to dog noses, etc), they are in the kitchen. It's a big kitchen, so it's not like we're sticking them in the closet.
Tonight, they were in the kitchen. Aka "purgatory": halfway between the awesomeness of the outdoors and the awesomeness of the rest of the house.
Bob: Oh, Bailey's whimpering. Let them out of purgatory!
Me: But Maddie's still a little wet [she was in her outdoor kiddie pool].
Bob: Oh she's fine.
Me: [sick and not wanting to argue] Ok, fine.
Maddie immediately trots happily into the living room and wrestles with Bailey, and then jumps her two front paws up on the couch (BAD DOG!) to see what Bob was eating. Two wet paw prints (with a tad bit of mud) on the couch.
Failure One. Back into purgatory.
A half-hour later, Maddie's dry. I release them.
We're sitting on the couches, when suddenly, Bailey vomits. On the rug (of course). And before we can get to him to SHOVE him onto the wood floor surface, he vomits again. On the rug. Vomit three and four occurred on the wood floor, thanks to the humans finally getting off their behinds and heave-ho-ing the huge retriever.
Paper towels whipped out. Dinners abandoned. Puke dealt with.
So now, the dogs are back in their purgatory kitchen. Bailey just let out a whimper.
So, the true question is: given what's happened tonight already... dare I let them out? Truly, their purgatory isn't so bad.... right?
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