Back story. Part 5.

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So anyway.

When Miss Carol and I would go to work we would put Cutter and Tug in the small half bath off of our living room. They would sleep on their blankies (Miss Carol’s word- not mine) on the floor of the shower. They had all of their toys, food, water, newspaper, and each other. You would tend to think they’d of been happy.

Wrongo!

Once the doggy gate was in place they would commence to barking and whining something pitiable. I don’t know if they carried on the whole time we were gone each day but they were certainly still doing it when I’d get home for lunch and again when we got home at the end of the day. Cutter would be furiously trying to clamber over the gate and Tug would be sitting in the corner looking mournful and guilty.

Picking them up, both would nuzzle and nip at our faces as if we had been gone for years and years and they were worried they would never have seen us again. 

Beware giving your heart to a dog to tear.

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