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Tuesday Night |
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Wednesday night. |
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Jake was missing again and where do you suppose I found him? |
I direct your attention to the pink material to the right of Jake. Imagine walking out on a fine sunny Tuesday morning to find two rolls of that material strung from hell to breakfast, shredded and chewed and glowing in the fine golden light of dawn. Bad dog.
1 comment:
Who'd have ever guessed you'd need a doggie door in your floor?
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