OMG. Picture this. It's Saturday morning. Hubby and I are still in bed, thinking about getting up. We were out night before and left the doggie door open so the dogs could come and go as they please while we were gone... except for surgery Gracie, who was crated. So anyway, we're thinking about getting up, couple of dogs on the bed, son arrives and starts teasing us from the livingroom about being lazy, the dogs hear him, they are all leaving to greet him. Suddenly from the livingroom we hear him saying to Emma "what do you have there? one of the stuffies?" next he's screaming "OMG it's not a stuffie!!! it's a Beaver!!!! a real beaver!!! on your Sofa!!!!". Hubby and I are laughing now. not quite believing his story. He comes down the hall and the look on his face says it's true. So we jump out of bed, run to the livingroom and sure enough, there's Emma bumping her head into this DEAD, STIFF as a doornail groundhog, lying on it's back on my gorgeous, fancy livingroom sofa!!!!! She's trying to make the stuffy squeak!!!!
We have no idea who the murderer was, though Cosmo, the Golden, has wanted a piece of our resident groundhog for a while now...
Gives me the major creeps knowing that that dead thing was in my house all night long and on my SOFA to boot.
We have no idea who the murderer was, though Cosmo, the Golden, has wanted a piece of our resident groundhog for a while now...
Gives me the major creeps knowing that that dead thing was in my house all night long and on my SOFA to boot.
