Dumb Things My Dogs Do

I am starting to think that I should rename my blog "Dumb Things My Dogs Do," because I feel like that is mainly what I write about on here.  With that being said, here is another installment of. . .

"Dumb Things My Dogs Do."

If you don't know, or haven't caught on yet, we have two places we live.  One is our lovely home in Kansas City, and the other is an apartment in Wichita.  At our lovely home, we leave our dogs out when we have to leave.  They have gained our trust, and for the most part cause no problems while we are gone.  At our apartment we put them in a kennel and muzzle them so they won't bark (or rip the kennel door off).

Well last weekend, since our lovely mutts have done such a good job at home we decided to leave them out at our apartment.  We did a couple of trial runs, for a short period of time and they did great.  So Saturday night when we went to dinner with friends we left them out.

Fast forward to 11:00pm, and I get a phone call from our apartment.  Here is how it went.

Apt Lady: "Are you home?"

Me: "No"

Apt. Lady: "Well, I wanted to let you know your dogs are howling."

Me: "I am so sorry, we will be home soon to stop them."

Apt. Lady: " I think they are scared from the storm, because I have never heard them bark before."

Me: "Yep, that must be it, the storm."

It was not the storm.  1.) You can not hear a damn thing in our apartment, because it is an inside unit and we have no windows.  So they could not have heard the tiny storm that came through. 2.) You have never heard  them bark before because they are always muzzled.  I didn't want to tell the Apt. Lady this.

We say goodbye to our friends, and run home to find the following:  The door was unlocked when we arrived.  Cooper had pawed at the door enough that he unlocked the deadbolt.  Luckily, the door is too heavy, or he would have been running the hallways.  When we get inside the apartment, Derby has torn open a bag of cotton balls, and they are all over the living room.  Someone (no one would fess up) peed in the living room.  And to top off their little adventure.  Derby ate several disposable razors.  That's right, my brilliant dog ate razors, he's hard core like that.  Luckily, he didn't really eat the blade part of them, he more chewed the handles.  We found all of the razor blade heads, mangled around the apartment.

Just to add to the fun, a day or two later I was picking up Derby's poop outside, and what do I see.  Plastic razor handle pieces in his poop.

Everyone survived this little tantrum.  But now they are both back to kennels and muzzles, for their safety and ours.