Take two bull terriers add a sunny brisk day and you have chaos.  Gavin and Patty were like two three-year-old  kids on a sugar, over activity, and a we-swiped-Mom’s-coffee high.

     Hyperactivity at its worst.  When they weren’t bouncing off the walls and each other The Curmudgeon and I were targets of their over zealous glee and mischievous mirth.

     It was with great relief on our parts when three o’clock rolled around and both were looking for The Curmudgeon to go up for his usual nap.  They were tired.  He went upstairs, both dogs dashed for their crates, and waited for me to shut the doors, give them cookies, and cover the doors with their towels.

     Five minutes later the snores coming from the crates were proof that they aren’t as young as they once were.  They snored for two hours straight.  I had to wake them for dinner.