Last Friday I took a nap. About half an hour later I jumped out of bed and walked straight with purpose to the kitchen. The dogs flew to their paws and clamored after me, especially Cruiser. I made some tea, looked out the window and then located my keys thereby giving the dogs just enough time to realize I wasn't going to do anything exciting.

Pluto went back to bed and Cruiser disappeared onto the couch. I went outside to the garage to look for a shirt or two to remake, and got distracted looking at books. I wasn't out there for more than five to ten minutes. I come back in with an armload of stuff and find Cruiser standing in the kitchen with a look of pure exhalation.

Stepping into the living room I saw why. Bits and pieces of a brown paper bag were shredded all over the floor and there was something lying on the couch. I felt my stomach sink a bit.

There spread across the cushions, was DH's latest library book. The red cover was half ripped off and several bits of torn paper curled along side of it. I picked it up immediately and turned to Cruiser to holler at him, shaking the book for a dramatic effect. He climbed onto the futon and hid his face underneath a pillow. With the dog properly abashed, I picked up the pieces and walked back to the office to repair it laughing the whole way.

The title of Tim's book: The Other End of the Leash: Why We Do What We Do Around Dogs by Patricia B McConnell.