Don’t kick the dog!

I just walked into the laundry room to put a load in. I am determined to get all of this laundry done today.

I looked at the doggy door and saw a little rear end sticking out, tail wagging. That’s it. Just the back end of my little Duncan. He was probably watching one of the cats outside, or trying to talk himself into going out into the cold, damp grass.

I had to fight the urge. I had to talk myself into walking away.

Don’t kick the dog out, Tiff. I wasn’t going to kick him hard. I just felt like forcefully helping his eager butt outside.

I know. I’m sick.