GD's Continued.

Oh. I might as well tell the truth. Great Danes are not dumber than turnips. The owners of the dogs, the dog sitters of the dogs, the beloved-we're dumber than turnips because we love the big idiots.

(For future reference, my husband is referred to as "the beloved.")

Great Danes are sly creatures. You may have to stretch a bit to imagine a gd flirting, but Skype flirts shamelessly with my beloved, especially at dinner time. It's entertaining. The beloved pets Skype, Skype edges forward. The beloved takes his eyes off the dog, the dog moves his foot long head right to the edge of beloved's dinner plate. Sensing an unusual warmth, beloved looks down and finds a big mouth right there. 

Following his genetic heritage, my beloved says in a gentle voice, " No. Skype. Don't eat my food."

Then it starts all over again.

The problem with gds is their size. So, we have tornado weather. Where the hell could I put them?

In the middle of the storm I heard rain pouring in...somewhere. I checked the downstairs window. Nothing. Rain was still falling. I looked upstairs and realized it was coming through the small window up there. I ran up the stairs and started to close the 100+ year old window ( everything here is 100+ years old). Unfortunately the dogs all followed. The landing isn't that big and the animals were spooked.

So, there I was at the top of the stairs surrounded by 300lbs of scared dogs, all of whom just wanted to stay close. It's a miracle no body tumbled down to the first floor.

I'd have hated to try to find a vet just then and I know for a fact that if I fell, Grover would have eaten the telephone.

(He's eaten one already.)