What can I say about Annabelle Barley.
I can say this . . .
She is THE most mischievous dog I have ever known, let alone, have living with me.
And then she can roll those eyes up and look so innocent that, yes, all is forgiven.
I am a total pushover.
Donald's no better.
I'm going to miss this rug in the living room that we're going to have to throw away.
It was bad enough that three of four corners were chewed off, but the large hole she very quietly managed to chew out yesterday makes it official.
But not right away.
Not until we know she's beyond the "lemme chew a hole in this rug" stage.
So, living with it for now and trying not to look at it.
Bitter Apple? HA!
Bitter Yuck? HA!
She's not going to let that stuff hold her back.
It may keep some dogs from chewing things up, but not Annabelle.
When the girl wants to chew a hole in the living room rug, she's going to chew a hole in the living room rug.
But, then . . .
"Mama. I told you. I do not know who ate that hole in the area rug in the living room. Why do I get blamed for EVERYTHING?"
And then there are "sticks" (or, as I would refer to this one, limbs) . . .
This is what I have to listen to,
"Mama. It's MY stick. I captured it. Why CAN'T I bring it inside?!"
I have never had a dog quite like Annabelle.
And, yes, she owns us. Heart and soul.