The Dog Thinks I’m a Terrible Host

So, W. came out to ponder the lay of the land with me, literally, by wandering around my yard looking at my drainage issues. He arrived and rang the doorbell. Mrs. Wigglebottom barked ferociously and he greeted her politely. I then put her in the house while he and I went outside to look at things.

So, guess who came bounding around the side of the house all like “Don’t worry, guys! I’m totally here now!”

But it’s clear she thinks I’m a shitty host. She was trying to show W. all the fun stuff to do at our house–sit in the cool grass, splash through the mud, muck about under the bridge, etc. You know, all the cool stuff I never think to show guests.

But I was able to regale W. with tails of my septic tank, which I imagine is some kind of giant poo-filled steel bunker and delight him with my crawdad towers.

And, not only that, but the TDOT folks are going to do some stuff to stabilize my front ditch and allow me to fill in the hole.

Of course when I came in the house after they left, you will not be surprised to learn that Mrs. W. had made her way back out the back door.

I’m still not sure if I shut it or not. But if I did, she has figured out how to open it. Which is a little frightening.