This is What It’s Like to…

…not be able to find your dog anywhere at 8:45 at night, assume the worst, and find her upstairs asleep–perfectly innocent of any wrongdoing, just very, very tired. Of course you wake her up to shower her with kisses and praise, because the minute you found her your guilt kicked in for assuming that she was off somewhere quietly ripping a book (or something of the like) to shreds. Isn’t it nice when they prove you wrong?

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