Animal instinct

Anyone want to know what all the racket is at my house? Besides the screeching 19 month old, I mean?

Could it possibly be these two hooligans?

Hmm. What could they be so interested in?

Now here's the part where I am surprised. Lupe usually spends her time barking at the roast beef garbage truck, or the mail man, or, most frequently, the clear blue sky for no discernable reason at all. She certainly doesn't waste time engaging in regular canine-type behaviors. I mean, she'll just flop down on the grass and sun herself like a princess while an entire flock of swallows pecks around the yard. She's supposed to be a labrador RETREIVER, for crap's sake. This silly puppy can be hot on the tracks of a tennis ball, and she'll veer wildly off course to smell a flower or spot a butterfly.

ARE YOU EVEN A REAL DOG?

And that's why I was mostly proud when I saw that all the comotion this morning was due to her pride at treeing her first lion.





Oh yeah. We've got a dog at our house.

I let the pups in the house to give that mangy feline a chance to escape. That's when Lupe showed her true killer survival instinct by wandering slyly over to the dining room table and delicately nibbling a piece of toast directly off of Kim's plate, leaving the fried egg untouched.

That's my girl.