There are days when I swear I own two baby elephants and not two Bull Terriers.  When they decide to tear around the house, they rock the joint.  Two wooden camels, Don Quixote, William Shakespeare, and a few other carvings on the top shelf of the curio cabinet walk from one side to the other.  On the top of my desk, my computer speakers do a square dance with pictures.  Ganesh swings his partner gargoyles and they promenade left and right.

     Patty loves to dive onto the couch and race from end to end slamming her butt against the arms to stop and turn.  Sometimes she races along the back of it—my poor, worn out couch.  I don’t care, she’s having fun, and that’s what matters.  Gavin’s favorite dash takes him from the living room to the kitchen where he uses the cupboard to stop and make his turn to run headlong back into the living room.  Yes, this can be a lively house.

     What I don’t understand is why they wait until I get up to expend all this energy.  When they are alone downstairs with Dear Hubby, Gavin is asleep in a chair and Patty is unconscious on the couch.  At least that’s what DH tells me.