I left the living room for a couple of minutes, only to hear as I left, the distinct sound of claws on the kitchen table. I come back into the living room to find Mickey standing on the table. I shouted at him and told him to go to his crate. A dozen things went through my head. Who does this dog think he is? How often does he do this? When was the last time I sterilized the table? Is that how the ice cream carton ended up in his crate? etc...
I went into the room where his crate is to scold him further and this is what I found:
It's easy to be mad, and even harder to stay mad.
laugh it out peeps. have a great weekend.