It was about 4:00. AM. The sound of dog-toenails was making me nervous. Apparently he didn't get locked up. I came out to the dining-room.
A rustling noise from the den. "Hey!" I called. "What are you doing there?!" Duke slunk back into the kitchen and headed toward the side-door. I let him out to the yard, then entered the den to survey the damage. There was a smell.
Fortunately it was only #1. Expensive art books were on the floor -- fortunately just a few droplets were on them. After I wiped them off, I couldn't smell anything on the books. Thank God!
There is still some dog-output on some other stuff, but the art books are OK. I let him back in and locked him in his cage.
I was sorely vexed. I made a sign for the girls to see this morning: "Duke MUST be locked up at night, ESPECIALLY when there is art (or books) on the floor!" And I put a frowny-face with tears of vexation (though you couldn't tell what kind of tears they were in the drawing), and wrote "Dad 4:05am" on it.
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