Who's a good Scotty?

NOT this chicka obviously! Her evil twin came to visit. I think after being so under the weather the first of the week, combined with RAIN to keep her in the house, has unleashed the very devil in this little missy! She needs to go to the dog park! When we do that, the evil twin stays at the park and the good Scotty comes home with us.

She has emptied the trash can all over the house....this time the one under the desk. Who needs a shredder....we have Miss Bonnie! She pulled scrapbook supplies out and munched her way through several chipboard alphabet sets...and pulled the jeweled handle off a mini purse album. I guess she felt she needed a little bling on her chipboard letters. And she woke up grumpy ole Puffers before the alarm clock today. Lovely! I just love stumbling out of bed to correct doglets and take them out.

Right now, after terrorizing the neighborhood earlier on an OUT RIGHT NOW!, she is curled sweetly by my chair with her chin on my foot. The very picture of innocence.

I think she's irritated with me over the change in her 'toybox'. Her toys have been residing in a lovely low wicker basket, which she chewed up this past weekend. Since she had already chewed up a plastic container, I got a nice deep metal bucket for her balls. She was grumbling at it last night under her breath. Finally she reached out with her front paw and flipped the dang thing over spilling out all the balls, squeaky toys and chew toys. She nosed through them all, as if counting and checking the condition, then picked them up one by one and carried them off to other places in the house. Humph! I'll put my toys where I want them, thank you very much!
And you can take this metal thing and put it where the sun don't shine!!

I suppose that is normal...no one of any import likes having their things messed about with. Moved without being told, etc. She doesn't understand that we prefer not to trip over round toys and how very dangerous they can be for us taller animals. Neither does she understand this is OUR house and she is merely (dare I say it?), the dog. One of 2 dogs actually. The younger intruder even. Nope. This is all hers. Everything in it. We may come in if she pleases. And she is always pleased to see us. But I get the impression it's her home and she is welcoming us to it. By her grace we can be admitted.

What is it Cesar is always saying...Rules, Boundaries and Limitations.
Rule number one. If it's mine don't mess with it.
Boundaries. It's all mine.
Limitations. What? Scotties don't have limitations, fool!